


The Weight of This

by scottmcchubs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blow Jobs, Body Positivity, Bucky Works Out, Button Popping, Codependency, Domestic Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Fluff, Dry Humping, Excessive texting, Feeder Steve, Feeding Kink, Friends to Lovers, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Hand Jobs, Rimming, Rutting, Slow Burn, Stuffing, Teasing, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, at first, chubby bucky, intentional weight gain, tight clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottmcchubs/pseuds/scottmcchubs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve discovers that Bucky managed to lose weight during his recovery and puts down his shield to devote his energy to helping Bucky maintain a healthy lifestyle.</p><p>Bucky discovers that it makes Steve very happy when he eats a lot and does exactly that. Bucky learns to cope through food and Steve couldn't find it in his heart to deny Bucky what he knows will help him heal--plus, Bucky's steep gaining isn't exactly a downside in the Captain's eyes.</p><p>Together, they discover a bond stronger than they had before the war.</p><p>edit: 8/28/17</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> none of this matters bc it's doneeeee
> 
> edit: 8/28/17
> 
>  
> 
> ~~SO this is canon compliant through winter soldier (sort of)? i started writing this before i saw civil war so forgive me, i hope to add in more characters (cough t'challa cough) as the story goes on, but we'll see how it goes~~
> 
>  
> 
> ~~i think its gonna be p plotty?? so far its p plotty and there's a lot of sad feelings for bucky and steve so prepare for mild angst~~
> 
>  
> 
> ~~also the tags are pretty inconclusive at this point bc this is still a working project? i have more than just the first chapter finished (for once) and i will be posting the second chapter in a couple days (maybe sooner) and anyway, i'll try to update the tags to keep them relevant to the story, but forgive me if i forget anything!~~
> 
>  
> 
> ~~ps im so bad with summaries give it a CHANCE!~~

If Bucky maintained any aspect of his past life, it was that he despised seeing Steve hurt. Whether it was the emotional strife of being turned down for a date, the physical agony of getting the defiant look beaten off his face when Bucky wasn’t around to protect him, or the quiet deterioration of his latest illness, Bucky hated watching it and did everything in his power to prevent it entirely.

And the only thing that felt worse than pain inflicted on Steve by something that Bucky couldn’t prevent or fix or mend was pain inflicted on Steve by Bucky himself.

So, naturally, he was overwhelmed by a sense of apologetic ache as Steve stared down at him with crossed arms and a disappointed, concerned expression. Bucky didn’t move, sat attentively, and waited for Steve to punish him for his wrongdoings.

But he didn’t. He simply laid a strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder, bent down at his knees, and let a tight smile spread over his mouth. “Fury told me you’ve lost some weight since your last check-up.”

Bucky gave a tight nod, brows knitting together in slight confusion at the comment. He didn’t see why shedding off a few pounds would make Steve react this way. Normally, weight loss wasn’t brought to his attention unless it was interfering with his focus or agility.

Steve swallowed, shifting gently in place before clearing his throat and squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. “You know you were already pretty underweight when you came here, Buck. And we would have expected you to put a little on with regular meals and–,”

“I don’t eat regular meals.” Bucky said quickly, as though an explanation was all Steve would need. It wasn’t.

He stuttered, taken aback, and the moment he jerked with dismay, Bucky shirked away from him with furrowed brows and a mournful expression. “I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, letting out a regretful sigh and combing his hair back, “just... I'm a little surprised, Buck. We’ve kept that placed stocked with plenty of your favorites. Why haven’t you eaten?”

Bucky pondered for a moment, not quite knowing why himself. He blinked, chewing his lip before looking up again. “I didn’t eat much when,” he swallowed, deciding to omit his last words when Steve gave him a pained, understanding look. “They gave me IVs, mostly. I had a few protein shakes and maybe a bar and I’ve been having one of each of those every day.”

Steve blinked, still looking as though he was wracking his brain to understand Bucky and failing. It was a look he received quite a lot more often than he wanted to. “Do you need me to show you how to use appliances again?”

“No.” Bucky shrugged, eyes falling to the ground. “I remember how to use them. I just—,”

“Maybe I should stay with you.” He offered, nudging Bucky’s chin up with a somber smile playing on the edges of his mouth. “Just for a little while, until you can adjust. I can cook for you, make sure you’re eating and sleeping and—,”

“Okay.” Bucky muttered, giving a quick shrug of his shoulders and a sweet smile. “If you wanna be my live-in chef, I suppose I really can’t say no.”

Steve grinned, then, wide and genuine and loving. “That’s what I like to hear, Buck.”

***

Steve settled in the next week. He’d come over every few nights, make Bucky a grilled cheese sandwich as he was passing by and dropping off items, remind him to make use of the microwave and where the frozens were before slipping off to go to a meeting with the Avengers to finalize the details of his leave.

Bucky was ecstatic. He’d spent six months in intense rehabilitation and cognitive behavior therapy before his three months of out-patient, acclimating into a semi-normal, but mostly suffocating existence of loneliness and boredom before settling in to it for the last four months.

Four months of seeing Steve for no more than four hours at a time every couple weeks, whenever he got downtime from being Captain America and saving a world Bucky only made worse. Four months of Sam or Natasha coming by even less frequently, for shorter periods of time and pitying him with conversation. Four months of Bruce and Fury and plethora of nurses and psychiatrists and therapists analyzing him, assisting him, being wary of him.

Of course, Steve called, almost daily and Bucky was oft delighted by the pleasantry of a ring from an Avenger, but there was nothing like physical touch and human interaction, all things he he never yearned for as the ghost.

At first, it overwhelmed him, having spent his time with a silent squadron or silent handlers, but as he came more into himself, more aware of his human needs, it became easier. But, as handling the attention, mindless conversation, and basic expectations slowly morphed into his new norm, he needed the attention that much less.

He’d come to a boiling point of suffocating loneliness solely because he’d gotten well enough to comprehend it.

So, understandably, he looked forward to Steve keeping him company and even the frequent bursts of arrival was enough to put Bucky on a better high than he’d had in decades. Literally.

He couldn’t help feeling guilty, though, because the only dream Steve ever had was to help people. To change the world, protect those who need protecting, to do what was right and he got that as Captain America. Bucky hated that he striped Steve of that. However, it was reiterated again and again that it would be temporary, that Steve would gladly give up the role for his best friend’s health and safety, and that Steve really needed a break from the lifestyle anyhow.

By the time Steve was carrying his last duffle into the spare bedroom with a wide tooth grin on his mouth, Bucky was finally beginning to believe every word of it.

“I don’t know about you, Buck,” Steve huffed, tossing a few sets of folded clothes into the wooden dresser and flying past Bucky to put a few essentials in the bathroom, “but I’m starving.”

Bucky shrugged, following behind Steve as he waltz into the kitchen more comfortably than Bucky ever could. “What do you want? Beef and potato stew? Maybe spaghetti and garlic toast?”

Bucky hummed, the sudden flash of a warm, partial memory of the smell of tomatoes and seasoned meat engulfing him as he watched his mother effortlessly cook. He’d always bring plenty of food over to Steve, something for him and his mom to have on the days when she was too busy caring for her son to make a proper meal. It felt odd, now, seeing Steve pluck out ingredients from Bucky’s cupboards to slave over a stove to keep him healthy, sane, _alive_.

“Spaghetti sounds perfect.”

Of course, Steve was a whirlwind of joy in the kitchen and Bucky really shouldn’t have expected anything less. He already had a boiling pot of water sprinkled with salt on the stove by the time he urged Bucky to settle into a chair instead of being of assistance.

“I just want you to relax, Buck. Just this once.” Steve smiled, swiftly chopping vegetables on the cutting board and shifting them into neat piles. “Trust me, in the future, I will expect you to pull your weight, but right now… rest.”

“How will I know you have any idea what you’re doing?” Bucky asked, folding his arms in front of him with a light smile playing on his lips. He reveled in the little huff of irritation that came from Steve as he retrieved some meat from the microwave.

“I’ll let you taste test.”

Bucky pretended to ponder for a moment before he leaned back against the chair and gave a curt nod. "Fine. But you'd better take my suggestions seriously, Rogers. I understand that your spaghetti doesn't stand a chance against ma’s, but I will not be eating tomato paste and burnt toast.”

“Come on, Buck,” Steve shook his head, but the playful grin playing on his lips was undeniable and ridiculously genuine. “You know damn well I can cook. The only reason I wasn’t elected head chef was because I had to be the face of the war.”

“Or maybe it's because you totally over season.”

“I'll see if you're still talking after you taste my toast.” Steve snorted, eyes a bit narrowed before he turned to the cupboard and tore down a few more ingredients.

Within a half an hour, Steve was simmering a thick bolognese with Italian sausage and ground beef, boiling noodles to perfection, and basting fresh bread in heaps of butter in preparation to broil.

He finished, turning toward the stove again and spooning out a taste of sauce. “Here, tell me if it needs more flavor.”

“You know I was joking, right?” Bucky muttered, watching Steve shrug and lightly flush. Bucky wondered why Steve cared in the first place. He guided the spoon to Bucky’s mouth for him, dipping it in the moment Bucky parted his lips and he barely choked back a moan. It bursting with flavor, tangy and just the slightest sweet, spices swirling on Bucky’s tongue in a way that made him feel something he hadn't in years.

He was almost sure it was genuine hunger, boarding on craving.

He licked his lips afterward, leaning back into the chair and placing a hand against the concave curve of his near empty stomach, save the protein shake he’d gulped down for breakfast. “That’s incredible, Steve.”

Steve only scrunched up his nose, tasting a bit himself and huffed out a disappointed sigh as he plucked up the oregano. “I do my best.”

“Are you really gonna cook like this every night?” Bucky couldn't help sounding excited and hopeful, and Steve seemed to receive it only positively. He chuckled, stirring the contents on the stove before preheating the oven and taking a quick peak beneath the lid of the pot.

“Maybe not _every_ night.” Steve laughed, leaning against the counter with a bashful smile playing on the edges of his mouth. “We’ll have leftovers and take out a couple times a week, I’m sure.”

“I’ll pack on the pounds in no time.” Bucky chuckled, hand still resting lightly on his belly, the ghost of an ache lingering there.

Steve’s face went serious, like stone, but still as warm and welcoming as it always was whenever he looked at Bucky. He turned toward the cupboards, cracking open a few and peering inside as he spoke. “That’s the goal.”

Bucky cleared his throat, making a strained noise as he got to his feet and headed toward what he assumed Steve was searching for. He opened the last cupboard, snatching down his nicest porcelain plates and heading toward the table. He put up a hand when Steve looked as though he was going to protest, not giving him a chance speak. “The least I can do is set the table after you’ve slaved over stove all afternoon.”

“It only took me forty-five minutes.” Steve argued, though he didn’t protest as Bucky toted the plates and silverware to the tiny, unused dining room table and placed them as nicely as he could. He grabbed cups, too, pondering about whether or not Steve would have him drink water or something with a little more substance.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had soda or alcohol or a milkshake. And, for some reason, being with Steve in a kitschy apartment and the smell of fresh spaghetti wafting through the air made him long for something other than a room temperature glass of tap water.

Steve seemed to read his mind, toting two bottles of cream soda to the table and grinning almost comically wide when Bucky caught the label. “Still your favorite?”

“As long as HYDRA didn’t fuck with my taste buds.” Steve’s expression stilled for a moment before Bucky flashed a charming smile and plucked the bottles from his fingers, setting them on the table and placing his hands delicately on his hips. “Is it ready yet?”

“Can’t rush perfection, Bucky.”

“You rush me all the time.”

The barest blush appeared on Steve’s cheeks as he lifted the settled pot of noodles from the stove and poured them through the strainer over the sink. He let the pot and pasta cool as he pulled the garlic toast from the oven, broiled to a crisp brown, and placed it on the counter.

Steve poured the steaming sauce into the pot, adding large clumps of pasta in as he mixed, making sure each noodle was slathered in the red, tangy sauce, emptying the strainer and sauce pan entirely before he toted the pot to the table. “Don’t touch until I’ve brought everything over.”

Bucky nodded and obeyed without thought, but not as the same mindless drone he was with HYDRA. He wanted to listen, to sit still and wait until Steve’s completed meal was set in front of him to dig in and enjoy it. It felt odd, being told what to do and having that thing be exactly what Bucky _wanted_ to do.

Steve returned with the toast splayed over a tin platter Bucky had no idea he owned, each slice drizzled in melted garlic butter, and a bowl of shredded parmesan. Bucky’s mouth almost watered at the sight of it, but he patiently waited for Steve to scoop spaghetti plentifully onto his plate as well as two thick slices of bread. He gave himself the same amount, plucking up the cheese and sprinkling a bit on top of the pasta. “Want some?”

Bucky nodded once, letting Steve spread a plenty onto his serving before murmuring a “perfect”.

Bucky picked up his fork and gathered a large bite onto the utensil the second Steve told him to dig in with a chuckle, tongue exploding with more flavors than Bucky could ever hope to count. He opened his eyes, barely even realizing he’d close them, to Steve staring at him with a sweet, half grin, expression filled the brim with pride. “Is it good?”

“Might actually come close to ma’s.” Bucky murmured, piling pasta onto his slice of toast and helping himself to another bite, one that seemed impossibly better than the last. He ate, happily, for the first time since he could remember, participating briefly in conversation whenever Steve asked a question or made a comment, otherwise completely engulfed in the incredible meal.

He’d forgotten what it was like, to enjoy sustenance, to see food as more than just a means of survival. It was significantly more satisfying than guzzling down shakes, taking IVs, or mindlessly inhaling bars stocked with necessary vitamins.

It wasn’t long before he felt an odd, somewhat pleasant ache in the pit of his stomach, one he’d almost forgotten existed and just barely recognized as fullness. He put down his fork, only to lift his eyes and find Steve’s still locked on him like a heat-seeking missile.

Steve would never speak on it, but Bucky could read the disappointment in his expression, one similar to what he wore when Steve relayed the news that Bucky managed to lose weight. He swiftly lifted his soda to his mouth and took a sip, grinning as he put it down. “Don’t worry, Rogers, I’m not finished.”

Steve’s face brightened immediately, his focus shifting a little more toward his own meal. “Good. I would have thought you hated it.”

“Stevie, no kidding,” Bucky started, taking a couple more sips from the bottle, “this is probably the best pasta I’ve had… well, ever. I know I don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure I’d remember something that tasted better than this.”

Steve rolled his eyes, though the stretch of his lips certainly didn’t hide the bashful appreciation. “You’re just being polite.”

“When has Bucky Barnes ever been polite?” He joked, scooping yet another heaping bite of pasta into his mouth and savoring the incredible taste, belly churning what had already settled. He knew well enough he’d never finish what was on his plate, but he’d get as far as he possibly could, what with the way Steve clearly wanted him to have more.

Bucky ate at a steady, focused pace, especially once Steve’s need for conversation began to fizzle as the meal went on. He ate, moving the fork robotically up and down and slathering spaghetti over toast to devour every few bites. After a while he moaned, grunted, and let his gaze fall to the plate.

There was less than a third left and, frankly, Bucky was a little surprised. Steve was a super soldier who spent 60% of his daytime either in combat or preparing for it, a solid 240 pounds of pure muscle, whereas Bucky was lean, borderline thin at 165, and hadn’t had a real meal in decades. He was almost shocked he’d gotten that much down.

But Steve seemed ecstatic about it, grinning almost stupidly wide when Bucky leaned back against the spine of his chair, hand spread over the ever so slight swell of his stomach.

“You have no idea how happy I am to know you still throw down.”

Bucky chuckled, licking his lips as he picked up his soda, helping himself to a few small sips and working out a couple of burps. “I’d never turn down good food, you know that.”

Steve’s expression stiffened for a moment, head nodding firmly as he looked at Bucky like he recognized him just a little bit more than he did before dinner. “Yeah, Buck. I definitely do.”

***

Bucky learned more about himself in the first few weeks of living with Steve than he had in the last year of therapy.

He genuinely expected to be more himself than the Winter Soldier with Steve constantly around, especially when he felt so elated the first day, but in reality, it seemed to be the opposite. He never realized how many hours he spent sitting, staring at nothing, popping in and out of his past life and having silent, internal breakdowns he’d forget about within hours until someone was there to witness it all.

Steve would wake up, cook Bucky a light breakfast, and knock softly on the door to wake him. The first two days, Bucky came close to killing him for coming in when he didn’t expect it, having been awake for hours after forgetting entirely that Steve was staying in the apartment. Steve wrestled him into a sleeper hold both times, a traumatizing experience for all parties, but Steve took every second with stride, looking nothing but sorrowful for his best friend.

Once he was calm enough to eat, Steve would rub his shoulders and talk his ear off about things from the new millennia, trying to avoid their history as much as possible. Bucky was never sure why, maybe because thinking of the past hurt Steve and he figured it would hurt Bucky, too. Personally, he didn’t care much about the subject of conversation, just that Steve was there with him, his warmth enough to make Bucky melt into calm stupor.

Steve would offer a movie or to listen to an album Sam suggested, sometimes an outing, like a trip to the grocery store if Bucky had been calm and collected over the meal, anything to keep them occupied before he prepared lunch.

Lunch usually had a few more words from Bucky, a few laughs on good days, and complete silence on bad days. Either way, Steve never pressured Bucky to converse more than he wanted to, but certainly looked pleased at the fact that no matter how bad of a day Bucky seemed to be having, he ate until he was pleasantly full.

Evenings seemed to be the time of day where Bucky was the most vibrant. He and Steve usually took a walk, somewhere with gorgeous scenery where Bucky could breathe and enjoy and feel close to nothing at all.

They’d return to the apartment and Steve would ask Bucky what he wanted for dinner. Sometimes, he had odd cravings, things he couldn’t quite put his finger on and could barely describe, but Steve could almost always pinpoint it with enough clues. Most days, though, Bucky would ask Steve to choose, his head too jumbled and empty to have any idea what he wanted.

Dinner typically went quite a lot like the first night, with Bucky as close to his past self as he thought he could get. He made jokes, laughed and smiled, kicked Steve’s feet beneath the table, and _ate._ He enjoyed his food, stuffed his cheeks, worked toward tight, almost aching fullness in hopes to ensure that those feelings of elation and warmth would last that much longer.

It certainly helped that Bucky eating seemed to make Steve ridiculously pleased.

It was Steve’s third week when Bucky slid the last bite of a heaping plate of baked chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and macaroni and cheese into his mouth. Steve had suggested it, after Bucky slumped forward in frustration trying to describe something that was salty, almost rubbery, and barely formed in the back of his mind. He wasn’t thinking of any of the things Steve prepared, but he was still more than pleased with the selection.

Steve had served Bucky the exact same amount of food he served himself, as he always did. Spaghetti the first night was actually the most he’d eaten throughout Steve’s stay, having quite a bit more trouble eating so much with two hearty meals preceding his dinner. When Bucky set down his fork while Steve still had a few bites lingering on his plate, Steve stared across the table and near disbelief.

“You must have been really hungry.”

Bucky smiled lightly and shrugged his shoulders, hand pressing against the swell of his stomach. He let his fingers sinking lightly into the curve. “Yeah, I guess I kind of was.”

“Good!” Steve praised, suddenly getting to his feet and just barely startling Bucky until he was on the other side of the table, hands wrapping around Bucky’s frame. He was still so much tinier than Steve, something that continued to surprise him every day. He remembered being able to engulf Steve entirely before the war and at least compare to him after he took the serum. Now, Steve felt like he could wrap around Bucky’s frame twice, like he could protect Bucky from the whole world.

“I’m really glad to see you taking care of yourself, looking so happy.” He murmured, pulling back with a genuine, bright smile. “Reminds me that you’re still, you know… my Bucky.”

Bucky blinked, his chest swelling at the comment. It wasn't often that he actually felt like himself, the Bucky he was before he became nothing but a robotic ghost, programmed to kill without hesitation or remorse. Moments like those, when Steve embraced him, gave him praise and encouragement no matter how subtle, it made him feel as human as he thought he ever could.

“How about some root beer floats for dessert?” Steve asked, pulling back and gently combing through Bucky’s waves, grinning.

Bucky was sure he felt his face light up at the suggestion. “Only if there's whipped cream.”

Steve only snorted and shook his head before disappearing into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve begins to acknowledge that Bucky is gaining fast. He also acknowledges that he likes it and has no intention of stopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited Bucky's weight/gain

Steve roused slowly, a gentle ache burning in his joints as he attempted to straighten his knees along the hardwood floor of Bucky’s apartment. He rolled his head along the wall, hair tousled and sticking up at odd ends from sleeping against chipped paint. He waited a moment, for the feeling to come back to his limbs and his head to stop throbbing so badly his vision blurred.

It had been a surprisingly smooth night.

Steve didn’t _need_ to sleep outside of Bucky’s room; he was quiet for a solid six hours before Steve had to slip in during a night terror and pin him down until he was calm. But at that point, Steve simply felt more comfortable being close to him. By the second week of Steve’s stay, he was curled up against Bucky’s door every single night, spending four of the twelve hours with Bucky in a vise to try and wrestle him back into a position suitable for sleep and keep him there long enough for him to actually drift off.

Whether Bucky woke up terrified or calm seemed to have no legitimate reason or rhyme and eventually, Steve learned to prepare for the inevitable. There were mornings where Steve slipped in to find Bucky staring silently at a wall, often responding to Steve’s calm, inviting voice with a smile or short verbal response and rarely with an attempt to escape or attack, ordeals Steve tried desperately to mend with the least amount of trauma possible.

Though, it was rare that Bucky could wholly remember events that occurred during his staring spells, regardless.

Steve got carefully to his feet, bones creaking as he stretched and cracked his spine, biceps flexing as he rapped gently on the hard wood of Bucky’s door. He was tense, as he often was when he prepared to wake him, but opened the door with confidence and warmth, still.

Bucky was asleep, curled into a tight ball in the center of the floor. Steve doubted Bucky ever opted to actually sleep in his bed, an avoidance Steve understood himself. There was just something too foreign, too domesticated, about a soldier sleeping comfortably on a fluffy mattress.

“Buck?” Steve started, voice barely above a trembling whisper. He stayed put in the doorway, eyes tracking even the subtlest movements from the bundle on the hardwood floor. He groaned, the noise soft and a little begrudging, seemingly harmless. Steve might have chuckled if he didn’t half expect Bucky to try and rip him in two.

“Buck?” Steve said again, a bit louder, as he took a tentative step toward his body. “Time to get up… I’m making goo and the moo.”

Bucky jerked his head up, eyes narrowed for a moment before his muscles slowly began to uncoil and relax, just barely. “Stevie?”

“Yeah, Buck, it’s me.” He nodded, swiftly getting to his knees, though he kept a significant distance. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten him, especially when he seemed so like himself, a definite scarcity in the morning.

Bucky only huffed and covered his eyes, using both hands to rub his skin before running his fingers through his damp hair; he must have sweat buckets the night before, despite the calm. He slumped forward again, curling his knees up and wrapping his flesh arm loosely around them. “Get me when my plate’s ready, will ya?”

Steve grinned ear to ear, couldn’t help it when he was faced with Bucky’s sleep heavy, innocent expression. “Sure thing, pal.”

Steve learned, remarkably fast, that food was his most advantageous alley in his war against the Winter Soldier. If Bucky harbored any consistency, it was that a full stomach sated him, almost indefinitely.

Of course, Steve encouraged food, happily, graciously, because Bucky was dangerously underweight and eating certainly lightened his temperament, but Bruce’s most recent visit revealed that Bucky was putting on weight and quickly. Bruce seemed even more pleased than Steve to see the spike in numbers. Bucky seemed indifferent until Steve expressed his pride, after which he appeared almost ecstatic about his 19 pound gain in only three weeks.

Frankly, Steve was proud, more than he could show without seeming…weird. Bruce reassured Steve, having picked up on his clear discomfort when the number flashed on the little dial, explaining that Bucky was still barely on the cusp of normal weight range and that they should keep doing exactly what they were doing.

Yet, the guilt still lingered.

It lingered because Steve was serving Bucky twice the recommending sizes, which was fine when he couldn’t exactly finish, but now he could scarf down an entire plate with ease and stared at Steve’s food until he swallowed his last bite. And because Steve knew, in the pit of his stomach, that Bucky only pushed so hard because Steve reacted so vibrantly, happily, every single time Bucky finished a plate. Clearly, Bucky still wanted nothing more than to do whatever it took to make Steve smile. Lastly, and perhaps damnedest, because Steve found himself increasingly more attracted to his best friend.

Maybe each of those would be acceptable if the factor of food and Bucky getting so much _bigger_ wasn’t disturbingly prominent every time Bucky polished off a meal or wore a shirt that was too tight, occurrences that had become all too common. Thoughts of Bucky growing, even past the point of normal weight, and Steve feeding him every bite along the way, was a terrifying and glorious fantasy that pumped almost debilitating amounts of guilt through Steve’s veins.

Yet, he still found himself piling Bucky’s pancakes high with whipped cream and peaches, just like how he remembered Bucky loved.

Steve was just headed to Bucky’s bedroom to lure him into the kitchen for breakfast, but he glanced up to find him tiredly shuffling in, once baggy sleep pants and plain black shirt looking a tad snug on his growing frame. Steve actually felt his heart flutter in chest.

He waltz wordlessly to his place at the table, where he always sat, and picked up coffee laden with enough cream and sugar to turn it to a light, murky brown, just warm enough to give Bucky that fuzzy feeling that Steve himself wished he could bask in for hours. He sipped at it, as he often did, barely seeming to notice his plate until Steve sat down.

“Bacon, eggs, pancakes, coffee and a tall glass of milk. Threw some, uh, cream and peaches on there too, for ya. If you like that.” Steve announced while Bucky glanced over the plate, inspecting the food as if for wires or obvious signs of tampering.

Bucky looked to him after a moment, brows a bit furrowed. “You always know what I like.”

“I try to, uh… to remember.” Steve coughed, picking up a slice of thick, greasy bacon and taking a bite big enough to fill his cheeks too much to speak any longer. Bucky didn’t give a reply, he seldom did much talking in the morning, but he did stare at Steve a for a few seconds longer than he typically would and began stuffing his cheeks with cream smothered, syrup-y sweetness like it was his first meal after boot camp.

Bucky plowed through half the meal before he set down his fork and looked to Steve with a contemplative expression. “You remember a lot.” He commented, seeming to understand Steve’s confusion when he failed to respond. “I mean, with the foods I like. You remember more than I can.”

Steve huffed out a half-hearted laugh and shook his head, pushing his eggs back and forth. “It ain’t hard. There wasn’t much you didn’t _love_ to eat, Buck.”

“I’m still that way.” Bucky nodded, picking up his bacon to take a hefty bite, as if to back up his statement. Like he was trying to prove it. “I think even future people would have been skeptical of those messy cheese chips you had me snack on the other day and I didn’t even question you about it.”

Steve gave a genuine chortle, then, shaking his head. “Plenty of people of the future like nachos.”

“And you knew I would, too.” Bucky offered, looking down at his plate again to drag his forkful of pancakes through a river of buttery syrup before stuffing it in his cheeks. “Because you know what I like.”

Steve didn’t offer a verbal response, too busy watching Bucky lick stickiness from his lips and shovel a bite of eggs in his mouth before fully swallowing what was still in his cheeks. Steve certainly couldn’t complain about how Bucky ate, with determination and speed and accuracy, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint _why._

He seemed to make it his goal to eat as much as he could, push and push and make sure that Steve was watching him as he did. Yes, Steve gave him smiles and praise whenever he finished a meal, but he didn't believe that was enough to incite anything like Bucky.

Then again, not too many things were a thing like Bucky.

***

“Okay,” Steve started, handing Bucky the package of chocolates with a light smile, “this is a Reese's.”

Bucky tore off the wrapper a bit hastily and set it aside, cradling the treat between his fingers. “What's in it again?”

“Just peanut butter and chocolate. It's good, trust me.” Steve plucked up the second piece, still smiling. “It's a little…fake tasting, like a lot of future grub, but it's good.”

Bucky nodded knowingly before finally taking a modest bite. He pondered a moment, chewing slowly, processing the flavors. “I like it.”

He stuffed the rest in his mouth and tore open the second package before Steve finished his portion. Thus far, they hadn't come across a candy a Bucky _didn't_ like, and they'd tried a new candy every day for the last week and a half.

Bucky’s fascination started at the grocery store, all the colorfully wrapped treats catching his eye every time he waited patiently for Steve to check out. Finally, Steve suggested they buy one, considering they were significantly less expensive than they had been in the 40s. Ever since, they'd systematically purchased one after another, a candy for Steve and another for Bucky. Though, 9 times out of 10, Bucky ended up eating both.

They'd certainly reached the age of discovery when it came to food and Bucky wanted to try _everything_. Lunchtime very quickly became Bucky’s prime opportunity to explore the city and try as much greasy truck foods as possible. Of course, Steve always encouraged it; it was a chance for Bucky to chat briefly with clerks, ask questions, become used to more human contact than just Steve without a terrible amount of pressure.

They usually meandered the city while Bucky chomped on a heavily decorated hot dog or Philly Cheesesteak, stopping for some type of decadent dessert after the meal, like gelato or frozen yogurt. Bucky seemed to fall in love with each and every one, had even grown to form a few favorites (Wally’s Gyros and the churro shop without a proper name).

Though, it was becoming clearer and clearer that Bucky’s weight was climbing at an alarming rate. All the sweets and fast food were taking a major toll on his waistline, so much so that Steve thought he’d need to take Bucky shopping soon.

But at the same time, Bucky seemed brighter and better by the day. He was always more apt to chat with passersby when he had a footlong clutched in his hand, always so willing to snuggle with Steve on the couch for an old movie when Steve presented him with a massive bucket of popcorn to gnaw on all the way through, always seemed to sleep better after a hearty dinner. Steve couldn’t imagine taking away one of few things that made Bucky feel like himself again.

So, he didn’t. Instead, he ordered $40 of Chinese takeout for dinner and let Bucky serve himself.

He didn’t tell Bucky to stop after his second plate, hell, didn’t even tell him to slow down until he was wheezing halfway through his third. He didn’t mention that Bucky had already eaten two when he picked up the last eggroll and gulped down half in one bite. Though, he did huff out a tiny gasp when Bucky asked about dessert.

“Are you—I mean, Buck, you had a lot to eat.” Steve said calmly, as not to sound overly accusatory. He never wanted Bucky to feel like he _couldn’t_ eat, quite the opposite, in fact. Steve just wondered if Bucky's fullness even registered to him.

Bucky simply nodded, placing his large, flesh hand on his belly, rubbing it up and down. “Yeah. I’m really full, actually.”

Steve let out a snort of a laugh, dramatically shaking his head. “Then you don’t have to go on eating, ya jerk!”

“But…I want dessert. And I always get dessert.” Bucky murmured, furrowing his brows and looking borderline disappointed for the first time Steve had seen since he moved in. Steve let out a light sigh and got to his feet, rushing around to Bucky’s side and giving him a somber half smile.

“How about dessert after you digest a bit, huh?” Steve offered, smiling wide when Bucky gave an understanding nod. “We’ll put on movie and relax, I’ll fix you something halfway through.”

Steve watched as Bucky’s eyes practically sparkled at the idea. He leaned forward to stand and winced with discomfort, hand flying to the noticeable bulge beneath his tightly fitting top. He breathed out through his nose and slouched against the chair again, swallowing. “I… don’t know if I can get up, Steve.”

Steve’s eyebrows nearly retreated into his hairline, gaze hopping between the miserable expression on Bucky’s face and the result of his gluttony. If Steve were being honest with himself, and he was fighting tirelessly to do anything but that, he’d certainly admit that seeing Bucky bloated and pinned was _hot_. It was a convoluted and frankly, confusing thought, but it Steve couldn’t stop his groin from heating up just looking at him.

“What can I do to help?” Steve asked, kneeling down and swallowing every godforsaken emotion aside from pity, hands twitching to press into Bucky’s belly to soothe. He moaned a little, fingers running back and forth.

“Just give me a boost, will ya?” Bucky nodded, huffing out a loud sigh. “On three?”

Steve situated himself, grabbing Bucky's hand in his palm and steadying the small of Bucky's back with the other. “All right, one...two…”

Steve heaved and Bucky stood, metal hand flying to his underbelly to cradle the convexity. He took a moment, both feet and breath steadying, before looking to Steve with a confident smile. “Couch.”

They walked slowly, Steve incredibly mindful of Bucky’s sensitivity, guiding him with a firm hand resting against his back. They made it in considerably more time than it would have usually taken, but they made it.

“Thanks, Stevie.” Bucky grunted, making himself perfectly comfortable on the couch and pressing his fist into his belly, pushing softly into the flesh to work out a belch. The only thing that made Steve realize how intensely he was watching was the confused expression on Bucky's face when he finally looked up again.

“Sorry!” Steve scrambled to find the remote, anything to distract from Bucky's shameless staring. He turned the television on and began scrolling through categories, looking for something suitable.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, placing a hand on Steve’s leg, enticing Steve to finally look at him. The hand that wasn't touching Steve was still resting against his stomach, fingers massaging in tiny circles.

Steve nodded, keeping his eyes glued to Bucky's face to stop them from wandering. “Yeah, I just…feel a little bad, is all. I let you eat way too much.”

Bucky shook his head back and forth, managing to turn to Steve to face him dead on. “It's no big deal. It's nothing a few belly rubs and a glass of water can't fix, right? It's fine.”

“Yeah, Buck, I know, but—,” Steve was prepared to word vomit about how Bucky swiftly shifted into the territory of over indulgence and why it was entirely Steve’s fault, but before he could, Bucky was grabbing Steve’s hands and planting them onto his stomach.

Steve went rigid, face flushing pink as he kept his hands as still as he could manage, gaze glued to where his fingers met the fabric of Bucky's shirt. The soldier lifted a brow, staring at Steve as if to gauge his reaction. “Would it make you feel better to make me feel better?”

Steve gulped heavily, his respectable half screaming at him to tell Bucky it simply wasn't needed and proceed to take the necessary steps in helping Bucky maintain normal eating habits. However, his primal half seemed to have a much better influence on his will and he was nodding his head after just a few seconds of thought.

He dug the heel of his hand into Bucky's stomach, eyes scanning his face for any sign of discomfort. Bucky only shifted his hips and relaxed, inched his thighs apart to let his tummy round out between them. Steve thought he might faint from how quickly his blood rushed from his head to his groin.

Bucky let out a pleased groan and a couple of small burps before fishing around for the remote and picking a film, mindlessly pressing play and letting Steve lull him. And Steve rubbed Bucky’s aching belly like it was the only opportunity he'd get, and it very well could have been. He experimented with pressure, pushed into Bucky’s sensitive spots, resisted his nearly insatiable urge to pull Bucky in and plant a kiss to those perpetually pouting lips.

Steve was so lost in it, so lost in each of Bucky's gentle shifts, his burps and belches, every sigh of comfort that left his mouth, that he hardly realized the movie had less than a half an hour left until Bucky pressed pause.

“I think I've got room now.” Bucky said, rather matter-of-factly, certainly something that could only sound tantalizing to Steve’s ears. He failed to reply, too caught up in the fact that he had apparently been making room in Bucky's stuffed belly for more. Bucky seemed to take the silence as confusion. “You know, for pudding.”

“Sure thing, Pal! Just—,” he glanced down to Bucky's stomach, reluctant to even pull away his hands, mind entranced with the thought of it being stuffed even tighter.

“Don't worry, I can handle it.” Bucky laughed, giving Steve’s shoulder a firm pat. “And even if I can't, I got a punk here to help me out.”

Steve rolled his eyes and finally mustered up the will to pull swiftly away from Bucky. “How does a sundae sound?”

“Perfect.”

Steve found his way into the kitchen, head still spinning with want and guilt. He searched the kitchen for a large bowl and scanned the freezer for the gallon sized tub of vanilla ice cream he always kept stocked. He spooned out about four nicely sized scoops and pried open the cupboard, snatching down hot fudge, mini marshmallows, and sprinkles.

He threw the fudge into the microwave before digging through the refrigerator for whipped cream and searching the drawers for two big spoons. He heftily drizzled fudge onto the ice cream, adorned the food with sugary toppings and heaps of fluffy cream.

Even Steve was licking his lips as he reveled in his masterful dessert.

With careful hands, Steve wandered back into the living room, grin growing even wider when Bucky's eyes lit up at his delicious sundae.

"I figured we could share. I may have gone a little overboard." Steve's cheeks went pink just at saying the words.

"Looks good!" Bucky exclaimed, grunting as he sat up in his place on the couch. From what Steve could tell, Bucky's belly was still rather stuffed. He could hardly imagine how the soldier would manage to pack even another bite into his gullet.

But as soon as Steve held the bowl between them, steady hands curled around the bottom, and handed Bucky his spoon, he dug in effortlessly. He gathered plenty of each ingredient onto his spoon and shoved it past his lips, licked at the whipped cream that couldn't quite make it in. Enthralled, Steve hardly looked at the sundae before Bucky paused to breathe and rub at the bulge of his tummy in smooth, light circles.

"Aren't you gonna have any?" He asked, licking chocolate from his thumb.

"Yeah, well...it's your sundae! I mean, I'll have whatever you can't finish, okay?"

Bucky nodded, proceeding to take the bowl and balance on the apex of his stomach, steadying it with one hand and spooning up bites with the other. He wasn't quite big enough to be able to let the bowl sit on its own, but Steve could tell that if Bucky kept eating at the rate he was now, it wouldn't be long.

Already, Steve could see the ghost of a double chin, the fullness of his cheeks, the doughy pudge creeping above his waistband. He imagined Bucky twice as big, hardly able to move and guzzling ice cream down like water after eating enough for four.

His fantasy was cut short, though, when Bucky handed him a bowl, dredges of the treat sitting at the bottom. "Can't eat another bite. Might nap here before bed, I'm stuffed."

Steve took the bowl and gave Bucky's stomach a firm pat before he got to his feet and draped the blanket over him. "I'll wake you in an hour."

Bucky nodded and belched, sound asleep within seconds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes Bucky shopping for new clothes and Bucky realizes he's even bigger than he was during the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER. i'm trying a new method of fic writing where i stay two chapters ahead and dont post until i'm finished with the next two chapters in hopes to actually complete something (: but i hope you guys dig it, plenty more to come!

Bucky awoke to soft taps on the wood of his door. His eyes flew open, nostrils flared and muscles tight as he stared across the room from his place on the floor. Panic hit him before anything else could, his mind entirely forgoing the resemblance of the room and the familiarity of the situation. He didn't settle until he heard Steve’s low, calming voice saying his name.

Bucky huffed loud enough for Steve to hear and hoped it would translate as, “Please come in.”

Apparently it did, because Steve was easing himself through the door the second that followed. Any wariness he may have felt was heavily masked with the wide grin on his mouth. He paused a safe distance from Bucky, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Pigs in a blanket. Hope you can get it while it's hot.”

Bucky let out another heavy sigh and nodded his head, flapping his arm to signal Steve to leave, allow him to collect himself. Steve cleared his throat and threw an awkward wave into the air before slipping out of the bedroom.

Bucky stretched and breathed, stared at the walls of his room, all the meticulously placed items, making sure not one of them had moved in the night. It was among few rituals that kept him grounded, reminded him that this wasn't all a dream.

Or worse, a calculated plot by HYDRA to convolute his already muddled brain further.

After counting the stripes on his comforter for the seventh time, Bucky decided he'd go enjoy Steve’s breakfast even if it was a ruse.

Lately, Bucky had been significantly less reluctant to believe his surroundings. Whether more sleep or better coping or Steve in particular pushed his progress, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that the longer Steve was around, the more real everything that involved Steve felt. And frankly, every aspect of Bucky’s life revolved around Steve.

Bucky certainly wouldn't complain, especially considering the only difference between Steve now and Steve before the serum was that their roles were swapped. They'd always been ridiculously close and Bucky was more than happy to stumble right back into being Steve’s everything and Steve being his.

Bucky wandered into the dining room and sank into his chair. He picked up his mug and took a few heavy gulps of his coffee, setting it down when Steve toted his plate over. His gaze fell to the food, fluffy pancakes wrapped delicately around grilled sausage and greasy fried potatoes as a side.

Steve sat across from him, eying Bucky a bit expectantly, but it was clear that he was trying to hide it, like usual. The only thing Bucky had yet to discern was why Steve tried to hide his eagerness about Bucky's eating. It was the only reason he'd come to stay with him in the first place: to get him healthy again. Bucky finally felt that maybe he was close to achieving that, thanks to all of Steve's pleasantries.

Bucky picked up his fork and took a bite, the usual thrill of delicious food filling his cheeks triggering his appetite. He hummed in appreciation, the enticing mixture of sweet and savory encouraging him to eat on and eat quickly. He found that if he ate fast enough, he didn’t notice he'd eaten a little more than necessary until after he'd finished it all.

Bucky observed lately, though, that it was a bit harder for him to reach that point. He also detected that Steve began serving Bucky the barest bit more food than he served himself, seeming to notice how easily he wolfed down whatever was on his plate. Yet, Bucky still found a yearning for a little more, extra snacks, something to push his limit.

Bucky simply enjoyed the feeling of fullness. It made him feel real, unmoving, something to be cared for and less like a threat.

“So,” Steve started, tapping his fingers against the table in an easy rhythm. Bucky just barely drudged up the reason for why it felt familiar: one of Steve's few nervous ticks. “I think we need to do some shopping.”

“We went shopping two days ago. We're fully stocked.” Bucky told him, through a mouthful of sausage. He washed his bite down with coffee, not breaking Steve's gaze for a moment.

“I mean, like, for clothes." Steve cleared his throat, eyes locked to Bucky's as though he feared looking anywhere else. "Yours are…sorta snug.”

Bucky looked down, eyes scanning over his plain black t-shirt and grey sweats. He supposed they had felt a tad tight lately. His briefs cut a little into his thighs and, now that he was really looking, he saw that a strip of his belly was visible where his top didn't quite meet his waistband. “Oh…”

He dropped his fork and tried to adjust for it, feeling a tinge of panic hit him. How could he not have noticed his body changing so dramatically? A few pounds was one thing, but Bucky could almost definitely make out the line of a muffin top when he looked hard enough.

The anxiety must have shown on his face because Steve was at his side within the next second.

“Hey, Buck, it's okay.” He placed his hand on the curve of Bucky's stomach, something he rarely paid any mind to unless Steve happened to bring attention to it, which happened enough that Bucky certainly should have noticed it getting bigger. “Of course you outgrew your old clothes, that's what happens when you gain weight. You have nothing to be embarrassed or nervous or anything about and, honestly, your clothes look fine, great even! It's just…”

Steve gulped, drumming his fingers along Bucky's belly. Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder, brow lifted. “What?”

“I wanted to tell you later on, over dinner, but…Sam and Natasha have been begging to come visit you.” Steve smiled the second that Bucky began to, nervousness seeming to wash away. “I- I guess the team has really been struggling without me. Tony's been blowing me up to get back in the game, and I've been telling him no, not until you're better. Anyway, Nat and Sam have been swamped with extra missions, but Natasha finally put her foot down for some time off.”

Bucky blinked, overwhelmed with the information. It never quite occurred to him that anyone on the team had a desire to take time out of their lives to see him. He never considered that maybe the only reason they didn't was because they couldn't, though in hindsight, that should have been obvious.

A pang of guilt hit him hard knowing that Steve’s absence meant more work for the whole team. Steve seemed to notice the shift immediately, squeezing Bucky against him in a warm embrace.

“Do not blame yourself, Buck, it has more to do with Tony being… _Tony_ than it does with you. He just can’t stand not being behind the wheel.” Steve rolled his eyes, huffing out a hefty sigh.

Bucky nodded, arms wrapping around Steve’s middle. He realized, for the first time, that their sizes were almost comparable. Bucky's waist was about as wide as Steve’s, though they differed considerably: with Steve being firm and cut, while Bucky had a belly, soft and warm. “What does this have to do with my clothes?”

Steve gulped against his shoulder before slowly pulling back. His eyes hopped between Bucky's stomach and his eyes. “I just—I want you to look—I don't want the team to think that—uh,”

Bucky placed a firm hand on Steve's hip, triggering him to finally stop stammering. “I won't ask any more questions if it means you'll shut your pie hole and let me eat.”

Steve pushed Bucky's plate toward him, letting out a pleased sigh. “Deal.”

***

Steve dragged Bucky to the mall at 8AM sharp.

He knocked on Bucky's door half past 6 and the soldier hardly flinched. He roused at least an hour beforehand and waited for Steve to come in and fetch him for breakfast (simple: eggs, bacon, toast, and cereal).

They ate, got ready, and set off for the thirty-five minute drive to the quietest plaza Steve could find. Steve spent most of the ride informing Bucky of significant differences in shopping compared to when they were kids. Bucky listened, intently, but he wasn't sure how helpful Steve’s tips would turn out to be.

No matter what, Bucky was still a programmed assassin, thrust into seventy years of advancement with hardly any exposure and no amount of encouraging warnings could prepare him. However, Bucky figured Steve’s presence would make things lighter, at the very least.

“Okay, we'll start at the GAP, Sam’s suggestion.” Steve murmured, staring at the map with furrowed brows. He glanced up, eyes scanning store fronts, before he pointed to the right and began striding in that direction. Bucky followed idly behind him, letting his eyes wander every once in a while to the colorful signs and people, though they were few and far between. It seemed that most people who came to the mall on weekday mornings were there to work, certainly a pleasantry in Bucky's opinion.

It didn't take long for them to reach the first store. It was larger than Bucky expected, well-organized, but not in a way that he could easily follow. He stopped immediately in his tracks after they'd walked in, staring at shelves and racks full of clothing.

“Don't worry about price, okay? Let's just…pick stuff.” Steve gave a nod and Bucky gave one back, allowing Steve to take his hand in a firm hold and walk him confidently towards the men's section.

“Sizes should still be about the same.” Steve muttered, plucking up a pair of jeans. “34/36, right?”

“Might be a little big now, I think.” Bucky murmured, sticking his thumb in the waistband of his sweats. His old jeans could hardly button anymore and he simply didn't have the energy to put them on, it wasn't worth it. Though, he couldn't imagine slipping into a pair of jeans that would have fit him before he became the Winter Soldier, nothing but skin and bones just a couple months prior.

“We’ll try them.” Steve smiled, before grabbing a few more pair and a couple of those soft Henley’s he wore all of the time. Bucky grabbed a couple of t-shirts, too, plain blacks and grays, before asking Steve if he could wander around a bit before trying on.

Steve followed him around the store as he touched various fabric, glanced over designs, even had himself a look at the women's half and grabbed a few things he thought would flatter Stevie.

By the time Bucky was ready to try on, Steve was piled with three pairs of jeans, all different sizes, dress pants, various tops, and, for Steve, the softest sweatshirts and cardigans Bucky could find.

Steve flagged down an associate to get them set up in a room, ushering Bucky in by his lonesome.

“Don’t forget to let me see.” Steve muttered and with that, he was shutting the door and leaving Bucky in a tiny room with nothing but a mirror.

He spent a minute or so checking the corners for cameras, explosives, anything potentially harmful to himself or Steve, before settling enough to slip out of his current clothes and pull into the ones he and Steve chose.

Bucky decided to start with the 34 waist jeans, thinking that if they were a little baggy he could ask Steve for a size down. He matched them with the smallest shirt in the pile.

After pulling on each item and getting an eyeful of himself in the mirror, Bucky noted that the clothes certainly weren’t too big. In fact, they may have even been a bit snug. They didn't dig into his skin like his jeans at home, but they weren’t…freeing, the way they fit before the war. Even Bucky's small shirt, which appeared baggy on him a couple months prior, now clung to the pudge around his midsection.

Perhaps future sizes _were_ different, Bucky pondered.

He gulped, suddenly feeling conscious of his body for the first time since he could remember. Would Steve be as taken aback by the innovation as Bucky was? Or was he already perfectly aware of the way Bucky's body had adjusted to his grossly domesticated lifestyle?

He turned the conundrum over in his mind for a few seconds too long, the sound of Steve knocking gently on the plywood pulling him out of his circular thoughts.

“Buck?”

“Uh, yeah.” He breathed, slowly, the way he had to when he finished off a big meal. He yearned for the feeling, suddenly, tried to mimic the calming weight of it. “One second.”

“Sure, take your time! Just making sure you're all right.” Steve called, his shadow shifting away as he took a step back from the door.

Bucky took a moment to collect himself, pulling his shirt as low as he could, adjusting the jeans. He wrapped his fingers around the knob of the door, reluctantly easing it open.

“I think these might be kinda tight.” Bucky murmured as he finally exposed himself, standing before Steve with pink cheeks.

“Those are the 34s?” Steve's brows shot straight into his hairline, eyes lingering on Bucky's ever prominent belly. “And—did you get a small? That _can't_ be a medium, can it?”

“Yeah, I-I mean, no. It's a small. I thought—I guess I thought wrong.” Bucky choked the words out, panic rising as his cheeks flushed deeper and deeper, breathing coming too fast.

The next thing Bucky knew, Steve was guiding him back into the fitting room and closing the door, wrapping strong arms tightly around his shoulders. The embrace was firm and inviting, calming Bucky just enough for him to avoid making a scene.

“Is this too much for you?” Steve asked, pulling back with his expression filled with grief and worry.

“I—I don’t know, I think,” he paused, shaking his head. “I think maybe it is.”

“Here, just get changed and we’ll go home, maybe stop for food on the way?” Steve suggested, picking up the original clothes Bucky had come in with and placing them  into Bucky’s hands, smile soft and calming.

Bucky nodded, returning Steve’s smile as he left the fitting room, allowing the soldier to change.

That was the first time Bucky tried new-age fast food.

Steve rushed Bucky out of the complex as if safely removing a hostage: cautious, diligent, and protective until they were securely locked in Steve’s 1978 Ford F-150. Steve took a moment to let Bucky breathe and pulled some chocolate out of the glove compartment for him, a Twix Bar. It was certainly among Bucky's favorites; he hadn't realized Steve started keeping them stashed.

“We’ll get something quick, something I think you're gonna like.” He explained, peeling off toward the main highway that lead to the city.

After about twenty minutes, Steve was pulling his truck into a line leading from a restaurant. “It's called McDonald's.” Steve explained, turning to Bucky with a grin coated in thrill. “They're really fast and really cheap, can make five burgers in under five minutes. It tastes real future-like, but it ain't bad.”

Bucky nodded his head, staring at the menu with his mouth hanging open. “There are a lot of options.”

“How about I order for you today?” Steve murmured, pulling the truck forward as the next customer was served. Bucky agreed, letting Steve take the reins with a shrug and a quiet consent. About a minute later and Steve was approaching a plastic box, right in front of the colorful pictures of menu items. Bucky jumped when the box started speaking, taking a moment to realize it must have worked like an ameche.

“Hi, can I have, uh…two number ones, both with large coke, and, um, I’ll do, uh…three McChickens and maybe add in a second large fry? And a ten piece chicken nugget. And two apple pies.” The box repeated the order back and seemed to get everything right, as far as Bucky was concerned. Steve pulled forward again and paid before approaching a third window, where a teenager handed them a couple of brown paper bags and their drinks.

“Thank you, have a good day!” Steve proclaimed as he placed the massive cups in their holders and shoved the bags into Bucky’s lap. “Help yourself to some fries. They’re addicting.”

Bucky reached into the bag and pulled out a small handful of steaming hot fries, crisp and perfectly golden. He shoved them all into his cheeks, barely wincing at the sting on his tongue. As soon as the flavor hit, Bucky knew that Steve wasn’t fibbing; he was stuffing fries into mouth the whole ride home and finished an entire order by the time they pulled into the parking lot.

Steve was quick to set Bucky up on the couch, turn on the TV and unwrap a burger for him before he even got his jacket off. Bucky started eating without him, the fries certainly triggered his hunger if he wasn’t already feeling a vague burning at the pit of his stomach. He took a bite, realizing it must have been the chicken sandwich. He chewed once, twice, decided it was tasty enough and scarfed the rest down in almost no time.

Steve found his way back to the couch as Bucky was working on his last bites of the burger and sipping at his coke. “Feel better?”

“A little…” Bucky belched, pressing a fist into his belly. “I think maybe the food calms me down a little. Brings me back to Earth, you know?”

“Yeah, I may have noticed.” Steve dug through the bag and pulled out a box, revealing what must have been the other burger. Bucky pinched his brows and fished for his own, prying open the top of the box and picking it up his hands. He took a bite, thinking it was just as all right as the first sandwich.

He blew through it in no time, took a break to help himself to a few fries, popped a couple of nuggets into his mouth, breathed and burped and worked out room before he was tearing open another burger. Bucky shifted in place, took a hefty bite and licked mayo off his thumb. He sunk lower in his place on the couch, adjusted his sweats, spread his legs to try and make a bit more room for his girth. A grunt left his lips as he neared the end of his third burger, fullness knocking right on his door, but he shooed it away. He’d easily finish this meal.

Apparently, Steve expected as much, held out the third batch of fries for him, gave his thigh a couple of quick pats as he spoke. “I don’t think I can finish these. You can have my apple pie, too, if you want.”

Bucky accepted the offer and Steve melted into the sofa, pretending to pay more attention to the Television than Bucky, but he knew better. He couldn’t fathom not noticing how Steve’s eyes burned a hole through his skintight shirt or how his muscles went tense whenever Bucky messily smacked through his meal or how his hand twitched toward Bucky’s belly whenever he let out a burp.

He finished the nuggets and fries, pressed both hands to his belly, moaned in discomfort and moved his gaze to meet Steve’s. “Could use some expert hands, Stevie, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“’Course,” Steve exhaled the word, lifting shaking fingertips, as though touching Bucky was an honor and privilege he was hardly worthy of. Although, Bucky knew damn well if anyone was worthy, it was Captain Steve Rogers.

Bucky picked an apple pie out of the bag and began peeling back the cardboard packaging, listening dutifully to the way Steve’s breathing began to hitch the way it used to in a dusty attic. “Aren’t you a little too full to—,”

Bucky took a bite that was half the pie and shrugged his shoulders, letting his head loll back with lazy chews. “I wanted to try ‘em. They’re good.”

“Glad you think so.” Steve’s voice sounded soft, like Bucky mesmerized him just by eating. It made him feel proud, loved, _human_ , knowing Steve was slowly building him back to health, rewarding Bucky for helping himself. It was more than enough to push him through his apple pie and pick up Steve’s right after.

He shoved it down his throat as quickly as he could and belched, took sips from his Coke whenever Steve offered, let his stomach settle for an hour before Steve suggested a walk around the pond.

That day, Bucky learned three things: he had gained a lot of weight, Steve still wanted him to gain more, and McDonald’s fast food should be had in moderation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [blog](http://scottmcchubs.tumblr.com/)
> 
> leave comments/pls talk to me
> 
> thank youuuuuu


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Sam drop by for a visit and Bucky's gain does not go unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this deviates a little from mcu: natasha is a super soldier and she was trained by the winter soldier. i allude to it somewhat in this chapter.

Steve found that twentieth century internet had a plethora of uses. He learned, firstly, that ordering clothes online was both easier and more complex than he anticipated. Bucky caught onto the concept quickly, even seemed to be enjoying himself, once Natasha finally got a chance to explain it over the phone.

Steve struggled with all the typing required to pay and have it shipped, fingers cramping when he finally got all the information entered. He couldn't quite fathom how the hell it was going to get to them in less than five days, either, but he supposed he'd been around the world even faster.

The second thing Steve learned, on the same extended phone call with Nat, was the existence of a “Privacy” tool on their internet browser. Steve, knowing Tony would never be above snooping through his history, refrained from doing much other than business related surfing, but after finding out he could fiddle without restraint… Well, that’s when Steve discovered the third use.

Steve knew his growing infatuation with Bucky was different. He’d had a crush on Bucky since before he joined the military; that was a fact he’d settled into, paired nicely with the fact that Bucky would likely never be with him. But lately, Steve’s feelings had shifted their focus to Bucky’s insatiable appetite and ever rounding tummy and he knew, without doubt, that most people didn’t have such odd and persistent interests.

He decided to take advantage of the Google search engine while using the secret browser during one rough night with Bucky, something to distract while he kept himself awake. He typed in a few key words and almost immediately received answers, finding that there was a corner of the world that was just as interested in weight gain as he was.

Steve reveled in relief, to have a name for what he felt and a network of like-minded individuals. He felt a little less sadistic and simultaneously, a wave of curiosity washed over him. His sleepy head wondered if Bucky felt similarly, wondered if the intensity that seemed to constantly linger when Bucky was nearing the end of a massive meal had anything to do with this kink. It must, Steve thought, but Steve also thought he tended to think a little too wishfully.

***

Steve planned for Natasha and Sam to come over the day after Bucky's new clothes were estimated to arrive. Steve helped Bucky out with sizing after he picked which styles he took to. Steve bought three pairs of pants he suspected would fit and two more that were a size up. He compunctiously predicted that Bucky would surely grow into anything that was currently too big. They got shirts, as well, and a couple of accessories that caught Bucky's attention.

The clothes arrived, fitting perfectly on Bucky's thickening frame.

“I'm guessing these aren't 34s.” Bucky murmured, sticking his thumb into the waistband and tugging, testing the give. Admittedly, there wasn't very much, but Bucky had just polished off a footlong, half a bag of family sized chips, and two tall glasses of cream soda for lunch. Steve could still see the food baby through his t-shirt.

Steve noticed that Bucky developed a fixation on his weight ever since they had a trip to the department store, obsessed with poking, shaking, kneading, giving his belly ungodly amounts of attention that actually made Steve salivate.

“Couldn't tell ya,” he lied, “the store was European, had a totally different system.”

The store was most certainly not European and the jeans were only a size up, 36s, but Steve couldn’t help but try to protect Bucky from himself. He just seemed so conscious of his body lately and the last thing Steve wanted was for his self esteem to be wounded.

Bucky's face pinched a little and he shrugged. “Oh, all right.” He turned in the mirror, assessing his waist and hips and ass.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve stepped into Bucky's bubble and grasped his shoulders, soft eyes glued to his full, rosy cheeks, “don't worry about your body. I know it's different from what it was before, but it's good! You're getting healthy, okay? You don't have to worry about a thing.”

Bucky appraised Steve’s words for a moment before offering a firm nod. “If you say so.”

Steve let his eyes fall to Bucky's midsection, pudgy and softening by the day and let himself fixate there for a few seconds before meeting Bucky's eyes again. “I do say so. You look incredible.”

If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Bucky actually flushed. “Shut up, punk!”

Once Steve knew Bucky would look decent for their friends’ arrival, he was considerably less worried about them coming over, but Bucky's anxiety seemed to sky rocket.

He spent the next day and a half cleaning and rearranging, picking out the perfect outfit (not too dressy, not too casual), even made Steve prematurely show him his intended clothing for the evening, muttering about having to coordinate. Steve suspected Bucky had been spending much too much time browsing blogs online.

He ending up nearly doubling Bucky's snacks in an attempt to keep him calm and shoved three servings of spaghetti at him the night before they were scheduled to host, trying to ensure Bucky get a good night sleep.

After he and Steve split a dozen cookies for a midnight snack, he was out like a light.

They left around noon to shop for ingredients; Steve decided to make chicken and waffles. He asked Natasha and Sam to text him some of their favorite dishes and he narrowed it down from there. After taking into account all of his options (pelmeni, roast beef, fajitas, to name a few), Steve thought chicken and waffles would be the most well received option—at least, by Bucky.

He began cooking at 5:30 with Bucky, who had insisted on helping out, attached to his hip through every second. After all, it was _Bucky’s_ place and they were _Bucky’s_ guests and Steve didn't have much of an argument against the logic. It was nice having the assistance, anyhow; Bucky was much quicker at mixing than Steve was, considering his metal arm.

They had everything prepped to cook just when the buzzer rang through the apartment. Steve hit the button to unlock the main door and Bucky fled to the bathroom to wash his hands and freshen up.

Steve lingered at the stove, frying up the first batch of chicken and pouring batter into the waffle maker. A couple minutes later, he heard a melodic knock on the door. “It's open!”

His comrades came bombarding in, wide smiles and excited expressions making Steve’s chest swell with gaiety. He'd almost forgotten how much he missed them.

“Damn, it smells good in here, Rogers!” Sam bellowed, rubbing his hands together and barging into the kitchen. He took Steve's hand and dragged him into a hug, patting his back.

“Where's Bucky?” Natasha asked, draping her purse over the chair and pulling Steve in for a firm embrace.

“Bathroom—should be finishing up in just a second.” Steve flipped the waffle maker and stepped toward the fridge. “Can I grab a couple of beers for you?”

“Hell yeah,” Sam took a seat at the table and threw up his feet, giving Steve a wink when he took the bottle.

“Got whiskey?” Natasha asked, opening cabinets and peering inside. Steve gently pushed it shut, ignoring the eery feeling he got in the pit of his stomach at realizing Natasha's guess for where they stored their liquor was spot on.

“Depends on who's driving,” Steve lifted a brow and just as Natasha opened her mouth to retort, another voice joined the conversation.

“Come on, Stevie, don't be a prude. Let the woman drink! It's a party, ain't it?” Bucky flashed a charming smile as he waltz into the room, putting his arms up in anticipation for the bombardment.

“Hey!” Sam called, throwing up his hands as he stood, quickly making his way across the room with Natasha right on his heel.

“Wow, Bucky, you have _really_ filled out.” Natasha commented as she pulled Bucky in for a tight hug, rubbing his back. Steve finally looked up from his cooking.

“Seriously, man!” Sam grasped Bucky's shoulder and blinked at him, softly shaking his head. “What the hell has Steve been feeding you?”

“It's not—,” Steve coughed, voice quite a bit louder than necessary. “I mean, it's not that—Bucky is totally fine!”

“Yeah, of course.” Sam laughed, giving Bucky's chest a dismissive pat before he made his way back to the kitchen, the others following behind. Steve turned away as quickly as he could, setting the cooked chicken onto a plate and wiggling the first waffle free.

“Anyway, _Stevie_ ,” Natasha smirked, wearing a dangerous look that told Steve she knew he had something to hide, “we took an uber, so get me that whiskey whenever you have a second.”

“Could I have a beer, too?” Bucky asked, taking his usual spot at the table, practically buzzing with delight.

“Now, since when am I everybody's personal assistant?” Steve asked, following through on the drinks regardless.

Sam only guffawed. “I thought that was the only reason you got leave the team, to be Mr. Robot’s _personal_ _assistant_.” He peered over Steve's shoulder, nudging his hip. “Now, do _you_ need some assistance? I'm starving.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but let all three of his closest friends join him in the kitchen and help finish up the meal. The table was filled with flavorful fried chicken, sweet waffles and various toppings in no time. They each took a place at the table and, as usual, Steve dished out Bucky's first plate.

Natasha jabbed him in the shin the as he sat down. “Slow down, there, Steve. I don't know if you realize, but Bucky and I aren't pumped with as much super soldier serum as you are, all right? We get drunk and we gain weight.”

Bucky's hand hovered over his plate, eyes widening by the second. Steve's stomach dropped, guard rising at an alarming rate. He barely stopped himself from lifting Bucky into his arms and removing him from the situation all together.

“Yeah. That's the whole point, Natasha.” Steve murmured, jaw tightening as the gravity of his tone settled. He knew well enough that Natasha wasn't serious, even Sam shot him a surprised look, but he couldn't help putting up his fists any time he thought Bucky might feel threatened.

“I know.” She replied, reaching over to wrap her fingers around Steve's forearm, brows pulled tightly together. “I'm just kidding around, being an asshole, you know. If it helps you and helps Bucky…good. Sam and I support it.”

Steve let his gaze float to Bucky and found him tentatively picking at his food. His hand drifted to Bucky's thigh beneath the table, then, fingers dancing in soothing patterns. “It helps you, right?”

“Right.” A smile spread across Bucky's cheeks and after a not so subtle nod from Natasha, he plucked up a steaming piece of chicken and took a greasy bite.

The rest of the meal went even better than Steve anticipated. Sam raved over Steve's cooking and vowed to move in with the two of them the second he got an out with the Avengers. Natasha even seemed impressed and practically begged Steve to prematurely reveal the surprise dessert he had waiting in the fridge.

Everyone had seconds and Steve expected Bucky to throw back at least three plates, but he didn't. Instead, he filled up on beer and laughter, grabbing a few extra pieces of chicken as everyone lingered around the table, chatting and vibrant.

Steve rubbed at his back, eyed the bulge of his barely swollen belly, thinking endlessly of cradling the warmth beneath his fingers. Apparently, the affection and lingering gaze incited question.

“So,” Sam started, sipping idly at his beer, “I know you two are shacking up, but are you _shacking up_?”

Steve coughed and tore his hand from Bucky's back, trying to cover the obvious panic with a forced laugh. “Sam, come on, we've been best pals since World War II.”

“All the more reason to fall in love.” Natasha sang, poking Steve’s bicep. He realized, finally, that he was the only sober person in the room. He rolled his eyes, then, replacing his hand on Bucky's back, scooting closer to him. He doubted any of them would remember much.

“Shut it, Nat.” Bucky hummed, leaning into Steve’s side and glancing up to him, voice quiet. “When can I have dessert?”

Steve simpered, rubbing Bucky's shoulders for a moment before he looked to Natasha and Sam. “You guys got room for more?”

“Are you kidding?” Sam huffed out a laugh and shook his head; Natasha did the same.

“I'd explode.” She hummed.

“Well,” Steve got to his feet and pried open the fridge to pull out a platter. “If you want to miss out on red velvet cheesecake, all made from scratch, be my guest.”

“I'll make some room.” Sam decided, standing to pluck up empty plates and set them on the dining room counter as Bucky grabbed fresh ones.

This time, Steve served Natasha and Sam first, modest slices, before his attention was on Bucky. “How much do you want?”

Bucky stared at him, contemplating for a few seconds. “I dunno. As much as you think I should have.”

Steve gulped and let his eyes jump between Sam and Natasha, who seemed too intoxicated to really notice whether or not Steve’s behavior seemed off. He cut a thick slice for Bucky and slid it onto his plate, watching as Bucky licked his lips, lifted his fork, and dug right in.

Steve didn't have any; watching Bucky eat enough cake for the both them was a sweet treat in itself.

Natasha and Sam made their leave less than an hour later, parting with hugs and kisses and promises to come by sooner in the future, especially with the knowledge of Steve's stellar cooking.

Bucky seemed exhausted, but buzzing, immediately wrapping himself around Steve. “You used to be so small, Steve. Now you're _huge_.”

“I'm not that big, Buck.” Steve rolled his eyes, trying to guide Bucky to his bedroom, still holding him firmly in his arms. “We’re almost the same size.”

“I used to be small, too.” Bucky stopped in his tracks to let his gaze fall to his stomach, messily lifting up his shirt to expose the soft flesh. It wasn't as swollen as it could get, Steve knew, but it was certainly fuller than empty. “Geez, what happened?”

“You're still not that big.” Steve gave a quiet laugh and shook his head. Bucky only huffed, glancing toward the kitchen.

“Can I have more cake?”

Steve brought his fingers through his hair, wondering whether or not he ever had the ability to tell Bucky no. “One piece, then it's bedtime.”

Bucky smiled dumbly and scrambled to the table. Steve cut him a slice just as big as his first and preceded to tidy up the kitchen while Bucky ate, smacking gladly on the cake.

It felt good to Steve, knowing he could so easily provide Bucky with something to make him smile, keep him feeling grounded, even if it only lasted until he was able to digest it all. Steve was willing to give Bucky all the positive attention he needed for the moments in between.

***

Bucky slept like a rock that night. He didn't get up until one in the afternoon the following day.

Steve ordered donuts, feeling lazy himself, and handed Bucky hot coffee and a bagel to sate him until they arrived.

“Remind me to never drink again.” Bucky guzzled his coffee and absently rubbed at his belly. “I'm surprised I didn't lose my dinner last night. I feel awful.”

“Well, I'm glad you didn't. You hardly ate any real food.” Steve chuckled, helping himself to a tall glass of orange juice.

“Yeah, I guess I felt a little more aware of myself with other people around.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders, hand resting on his belly. “Kinda realized how much I eat.”

“Well, maybe I'll set up something with Bruce.” Steve offered, tapping his fingers against the table. “I'm sure he'll be able to offer some helpful advice about your eating habits and I'm willing to bet he'll tell you you're fine.”

“I'd like to see how much I weigh.” Bucky said confidently, sinking his teeth into his bagel. “Set it up!”

“Can do,” Steve muttered, taking out his phone to compose an email just as the buzzer rang. He hit the button and waited patiently by the door with cash, traded it off and carried the box into the dining room.

“Got a baker’s dozen. Have as much as you'd like, I'm not really hungry.”

Bucky flipped open the box and lifted a frosting slathered sweet right out, taking a bite that was nearly half the donut. He hummed happily, sitting back.

“You know,” Bucky started, finishing his first donut and swiftly picking up the next, eyes scanning it for the most optimal place to bite. He stuffed his cheeks, licked excess off his thumb, “even if Bruce says I should eat better, I don’t know if I'm gonna.”

“Really?” Steve shifted in place, stomach churning with thrill.

“Yeah. I like eating like this.” Bucky nodded his head, licking his fingers again and picking up a donut in each hand. He leaned back in his chair and took strategic bites: right, left, right, left. Steve sat mesmerized by the sight, mouth just slightly agape.

“Well, if it ain't broke…”

Bucky smiled around his filled cheeks and nodded firmly. “Don't fix it.” He muttered, swallowing and sucking on each of his digits. “And thanks, Stevie.”

Bucky picked up another donut and huffed out a quiet belch. Steve watched him take another egregious bite. “What for?”

“Helping me and supporting me,” he chewed, refilled his cheeks, sipped at his coffee, “reminding me how awesome eating is.”

“Don't sweat it, Buck.” Steve reached out to rub his pillowy bicep. Bucky smiled snd sighed, continuing to gorge on his sugary breakfast. He most certainly enjoyed eating with both hands, humming happily to himself at how much easier it was to keep his face full. Steve enjoyed it just as much, watching as Bucky's breath became more labored, as his thighs began to spread.

He seemed to hardly notice he finished more than half the dozen, hands finding barely visible rolls at his hips and he moaned. “These are so good, but there are so many.”

“Well, I'm sure you can make room.” Steve offered, hand finding Bucky's belly in a way that seemed almost natural lately. Bucky's body moved a hair closer, another burp leaving his lips as Steve began to press the heel of his hand into the apex.

“Oh, _God_ , Stevie, you have no idea how nice that is.” Bucky struggled to reach for another donut, taking small, but plentiful bites. “Definitely makes room for more.”

Steve hummed an approval, continuing to move his hands along Bucky’s skin, cheeks flushing at the closeness, the intimacy. “Bet if you eat quick enough you'll hardly feel it.”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, taking the opportunity to lift another donut to his lips and sink his teeth in, “always nice to eat fast.”

Steve chuckled, licked his lips and kept his eyes glued to Bucky's mouth; there hardly ever seemed to be a moment when he wasn't jamming his cheeks to their utmost capacity, even as he was wheezing with fullness. He kept at it, slow and steady as his expression went blank as it often did when Bucky made it his only goal to finish what was in front of him.

He finally stuffed the last of 13 donuts in his cheeks, lolled his head back onto the chair and held his soft underbelly with both hands. He rubbed there for a moment while Steve worked a little higher, pushing out loud burps and groans, trying to ease Bucky through the discomfort and get him right to the pleasurable high of fullness.

“Would it be terrible of me to go back to sleep?” Bucky asked, slipping out consistent little hiccups.

“No,” Steve shook his head, laughing a little as he spoke. “I'll wake you up in an hour for a nice snack.”

Bucky shot him a look filled with sarcasm. “Sounds _perfect_.”

Instead, Steve woke him up in two hours. Bucky happily accepted the fried bologna sandwich Steve offered despite complaining about being being too full to get up from the couch. Steve decided to save his guilt for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanksssssssss for reading :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky weighs in and Steve is rather impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some relevant slang!
> 
> cuddle: to kiss and hug

It had been five weeks since Bucky's last weigh in.

He wasn't nervous, per se, not even necessarily worried, but there was a tinge trepidation that lingered along side his buzzing excitement.

Bucky knew he had more trouble than most processing his emotions, even his thoughts. His awareness of Steve's infatuation with his indulgence certainly played a factor in his own desire for it, but he wasn't sure how much. Sure, it made him happy that something so menial brought a smile to Steve's lips and painted pride all over his expression, but food made Bucky just as happy. And very few things made Bucky as happy as Steve did.

It must have been a mix, Bucky decided. He ate for Steve and he ate for himself and it would be a reward for the both of them to see a rising number on the scale. And knowing they could both bask in the glory of Bucky reaching goal after goal prompted a bubble of warm excitement in the pit of his stomach.

Steve entertained Bucky with idle chat in the kitchen while they waited for Bruce to arrive. Bucky could barely hold up a conversation; he was _hungry._ Bucky could swear Steve was cutting down on his meals; not that they looked very different proportionally, just that Bucky perpetually felt starved, hardly ever felt full. The only times he could reach that heavy, sated feeling he yearned for were on rare days when Steve was too lazy to cook.

He suspected he didn’t act as crabby or vigilant as he felt, because Steve hardly seemed to notice anything. It was a good sign, all in all, Bucky figured. It meant he somehow picked up on coping mechanisms other than stuffing himself silly, but it also meant that Steve didn’t think to use food to help him feel better. And Bucky had grown to like a _lot_ of food.

It wasn't long before the buzzer went off, prompting Steve to stiffly get to his feet and press the button. Bruce was rapping on their door not two minutes later and Steve greeted him with a firm hug and a few kind words.

Bruce crossed into the threshold of the apartment and his expression widened when he got an eyeful of Bucky. His gaze hopped from Steve to Bucky three times before he shook his head and finally took a seat on the armchair.

“I see you've been keeping up the good work!” He sounded strained, like he hardly knew how to react to the situation.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, sounding just as strained, but Bucky could figure it was the same nervousness that he displayed in front of Sam and Nat. “I've been upping his intake a little, trying to get him, uh, back up to speed and everything.”

“Right.” Bruce nodded, taking a file folder out of his briefcase and offering both men a pleasant smile. “Well, while it might be a bit premature to assess this, I'm going to assume you won't be needing to up the intake anymore.”

Steve swallowed thickly and Bucky felt his stomach drop.

Bruce's brows furrowed, slowly flipping open the folder and glancing over numbers. “All right, looks like your last weigh in came up at 184, which is probably about where we want you to be, give or take five pounds or so.”

Bucky cringed, knowing full well he had surpassed the five pound mark long ago. He could feel it in the rolls at his hips and in his thighs, could even see it in his full cheeks and on the flab at his chin. Bruce could probably see it, too.

“We can go ahead and hop on the scale whenever you're ready, Bucky. And maybe from there, I'll ask you a few questions about how you're feeling, health wise, and we can talk about next steps.”

Bucky barely skipped a beat before he opened his mouth. “I'm ready.”

All three men stood, with Steve hesitating before Bucky tugged on his arm, and headed toward the bathroom. Steve took down the scale and set it on the floor and all three of them stared intently as the number flashed across the tiny screen.

Steve coughed. “211…”

“That's actually quite impressive.” Bruce sputtered, giving Bucky's back a firm pat.

He was almost giddy with excitement; clocking in at almost 20 pounds heavier than he was during the war was quite impressive indeed. “I can't believe it.”

Bruce jotted down the number and began wandering back toward the living room, Steve and Bucky at his heel. Bucky felt his body melt into elation when Steve dragged his hand across the expanse of his back and pulled him in close, hip to hip. He could practically feel pride pouring off of him and this time, it seemed to block out any of the guilt Steve may have had along with it. And that, Bucky was especially thankful for, because Steve shouldn't have ever felt guilty about making Bucky happy.

Bruce flopped down onto the arm chair and rubbed his hands together, gaze fixed on Bucky, eying his midsection. “All right, Bucky, can you give me a quick review of your overall state, health wise?”

“I feel great.” Bucky said plainly, expression unwavering.

“I think a little more detail might be helpful here, Buck.” Steve chuckled, rubbing his back with soft fingertips and Bucky gave a nod, took a moment to think.

“I sleep better. I've got more energy. I can communicate with people. Not sure if it's because I'm fatter or because of Steve, but I don't really care. I think both are good.”

Bruce blinked, seeming to understand from the words and the body language that Bucky and Steve hadn't been doing this for the sake of the original goal for a while now. He closed the folder and intertwined his fingers, let his hands dangle between his knees. “That's great. That's exactly the type of improvement we wanted to see. Keep up the good work, all right? And if you start to see the opposite effect for any of those improvements, give me a call. Otherwise, Bucky, I think you're well enough to decide what's best for yourself.”

Bucky breathed out a soft chuckle, turning to Steve when he wrapped his arms tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and gave him a firm squeeze. “I’m really proud of you, Buck.”

Bucky couldn’t help nuzzling into Steve’s warm chest, smiling against him, reveling in the encouragement and preening pouring from Steve. “I’m proud of me, too.”

Bruce had begun to quietly collect his things, not wanting to dampen the moment and Steve quickly scrambled to tear himself away from Bucky enough to speak to him. “We really appreciate you coming out here for this, Bruce. Can I make you lunch? Shoot the shit about Tony over chicken and dumplings?”

A smile crept across Bruce’s lips as he slipped the folder back into his bag and got to his feet. “I’ll admit, I’ve been dying to come over for a meal since Sam and Natasha visited. They’re still raving about your waffles.”

Steve gave a hearty laugh and got to his feet, helping Bucky off the couch right after. “That was actually Mrs. Barnes recipe. I tweaked it a little, but not by much.” Steve slipped into the kitchen like it was exactly where he belonged, tearing items down from shelves, snatching ingredients from the fridge.

“We’ve got beer, coke, and cream soda, if you need a drink.” Bucky offered, giving Bruce a warm smile.

“I’ll take a coke.” Bruce hummed after a moment’s contemplation and Bucky collected it from the cupboard along with a glass full of ice, topping it off and placing it in front of Bruce with a grateful expression. He felt he’d picked up on Steve’s hosting skills rather well.

It didn’t take long for Steve to get the soup boiling with fresh toast on the table as an appetizer. Bucky helped himself to plenty, dousing each piece in butter, pleased with how Steve shoved the platter toward him whenever he saw Bucky’s portions dwindling. He and Bruce chattered on about Tony and the Avengers, all the while Bucky preoccupied himself with his starter. He hoped Steve would serve him seconds of the main.

Bucky grabbed his biggest bowls down from the cupboard when Steve checked beneath the pot and turned it down to a simmer. He set the table, refilled drinks, and had himself one last slice of toast.

Steve filled Bucky’s bowl to the brim, a bit higher than he filled his own and Bucky began guzzling down goodness not a second after Steve set his bowl down. He chuckled, “Good thing I let it cool first.”

Bucky felt his cheeks flush, thinking it certainly was a good thing. The broth was perfectly warm, making Bucky’s belly feel as fuzzy and soft on the inside as it did out, chicken tender and falling easily off the bone, vegetables bursting with flavor and damn if Steve didn’t make the most delicious, savory dumplings that ever passed Bucky’s lips. He found himself in lunchtime heaven, spoon and fork moving diligently until he was lifting the bowl to his lips to suck down the dredges.

He set it down to find that Steve and Bruce were just over halfway through their meals.

“More?” Steve offered, picking up Bucky’s bowl as he nodded his head, filling it up just as much as he had before. Bucky grinned wide and ate, the stretch of fullness becoming more and more obvious as he plowed through the meal. He stopped halfway through to breathe and work out a few stifled burps.

“Gonna make it, Buck?” Steve’s hand grazed Bucky’s knee beneath the table and his metal fingers splayed over Steve’s, steadying them there. He nodded his head, free hand pressed into his shirt, feeling the hotness of his stomach. He could finish the bowl, easy. He just needed a few seconds.

“I, uh,” Bruce started, catching both soldier’s attention the moment he spoke. He cleared his throat, slowly getting to his feel as he continued, “I hate to skip out so shortly, but I actually have another meeting set up across town and—,”

“Don’t sweat it, Banner!” Steve slipped away from Bucky and walked around the table to give Bruce a thankful, pat. “We appreciate you sticking around for a meal.”

“And I appreciate the truly exquisite food.” Bruce grinned ear to ear, allowing Steve to walk him toward the exit. “Seriously, Steve, you’ve got a real knack for cooking.”

Bucky plumed at Steve’s fiercely reddening skin, absently rubbing his belly, something he and Steve both worked hard to make real and prominent. He gave Bruce a nod and Bruce returned it with a wave, swiftly exiting and Steve was back at Bucky’s side within the next second.

He cradled Bucky’s tummy, fingertips delicate and careful. “Buck, you don’t have to fin—,”

Bucky forked out a massive dumpling and stuffed it into his cheeks, a soft moan filtering through at the taste. “I wanna. I’m gonna.” Steve seemed to tighten his grip, just barely, staring intently at Bucky’s mouth as he chewed and swallowed, gaze not wavering as he shoveled another messy spoonful into his face.

There were few words between the two as Bucky worked his way through the second bowl, apartment filled with Bucky’s slurps and belches, accompanied by swallowed whimpers from Steve and so much tension. Bucky had the feeling Steve wanted to touch more than just his swollen belly and Bucky lusted just as strongly for something more, his need for intimacy as insatiable as his appetite.

He swigged down the remainder of his soup as he had before, licking his lips and patting his warm belly, before his hands were over Steve’s. “I’m really glad Bruce is okay with this.”

“Me too.” Steve hummed in response, leaning forward to latch his arms around Bucky’s middle. “Like he said, you decide what’s best for you and whenever you need to stop or slow down or—,”

“I’ll let you know.” Bucky wriggled, pulling Steve back to look him straight in the eyes. “But Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Right now, the last thing I wanna do is quit this.”

Bucky watched Steve’s Adam’s apple bob smoothly when he gulped. “Okay.”

***

A week later and Bucky finally asked Steve for seconds.

They had Mexican, loaded burritos with guacamole and homemade chips and admittedly, Bucky felt pretty stuffed considering Steve caved and let him have two grilled cheeses after they got home from the library not two hours earlier, but Bucky couldn’t help himself. It may have been the best burrito Bucky had in the entirety of his new life and what better way to _really_ push his limit.

“Is there more?” He asked, knowing full well there was plenty on the counter that Steve probably planned to pack into containers and save for the next day. Steve blinked, looking between Bucky’s plate and his face.

“Yeah, there’s plenty! Do you—uh, want a whole burrito?”

Bucky nodded, handing Steve his plate. “Chips, too. And extra guacamole.”

Steve swallowed thickly as he took Bucky's plate, returning a minute later with a burrito so fat the tortilla strained around the ingredients. It was drowning in a moat of chips, massive dollop of guacamole on the edge of the plate. Bucky felt his stomach flip with anticipation.

Steve smiled when he caught Bucky’s unwavering, nervous gaze. “Hope this fills you up.”

Steve set the plate down, lingering behind him much longer than necessary to rub his shoulders, thumbs grazing the excess chub along Bucky's neck. Bucky used both hands to grasp his prize, lifting the burrito off the plate and steadying it between his fingers before he shot Steve a smarmy grin. “We'll see.”

Bucky took a bite, humming gently around the titillating flavors and straining his neck to get a look at Steve. He was flushed head to toe, breathing coming a little quicker than it usually would. Bucky stuffed his cheeks with another mouthful, grunting softly and following the bite with a couple of chips. He breathed through his nose, mouth too occupied with chewing to do much else.

Bucky plowed through a quarter the burrito and made a small but notable dent in the chips and guacamole before he finally placed it back onto the plate, burping quietly as Steve’s hand slid down from his shoulders and locked over the brooding bulge of Bucky’s belly. “Sure you aren’t full? Feels full…”

“Positive.” Bucky lied, belching again. He was certainly full, he felt full before Steve even set down his second plate, but being full certainly didn’t mean Bucky couldn’t eat more. He would definitely eat more because eating past the point of fullness had become a rare pleasure that Bucky nearly constantly yearned for. He scooped guacamole onto a chip and shoved it into his mouth, ignoring the gurgling protests of his belly.

Steve pressed his fingers into the firm convexity and Bucky gasped, causing him to let up much too soon. “No, this is good.” Bucky nodded, leaning back in his place and Steve snuggled against his side in response, fingers kneading.

Bucky didn’t wait much longer to pick up his burrito again, a low groan leaving his lips as he took a couple more bites, sipping appreciatively when Steve pressed a coke to his lips. He smiled and burped shamelessly, free hand patting his fleshy side. “Christ…”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, as if he understood every underlying meaning Bucky had for the word, and goodness, was there a whole lot of meaning. He groped himself, feeling every added pound and delicious meal embodied, made real. He lowered one of Steve's hands so he could touch too, feeling him go rigid as he pinched at Bucky's lovehandles.

Bucky kept eating as he reveled in Steve’s relentless touch, hands grazing over every bulge and valley as he breathed hotly against Bucky's neck. It was really the only motivation he needed to keep on, along with a few belches during his short breaks. Eventually, the burrito was nothing more than a bit of leftover rice and a couple of forgotten veggies, surrounded by a few chips Bucky quickly used to scrape it up with and stuff in his gut.

“Good Lord almighty.” Steve muttered, voice low and husky when the words dropped from his lips. He moved around the chair placing both hands on the otherworldly mound of Bucky's fleshy stomach. He knelt there, staring as though mesmerized by the sight and Bucky couldn't help combing his fingers through Steve's thick, blonde hair.

“Can't believe you actually finished that...” Steve breathed, dragging his mouth up and over his rolls, until it hovered over Bucky's lips. “Sweet Moses, Buck, I mean, 211?”

Steve said the words so suddenly that Bucky took a second to process them, face fading to pink when they finally registered. Steve hadn’t mentioned a thing about Bucky's size since Bruce walked out the door, probably in hopes to save his feelings, but it seemed he couldn't help himself any longer.

One of Steve’s hands reached up to cup Bucky's cheek while the other kept steady on his stomach. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised with the way you eat, but God damn it, that's _big_ and by now you're even _bigger_ with how you've been eating nonstop—,”

Bucky finally cut him short by closing the space between their mouths in a greedy embrace. Steve slid effortlessly into his lap and moaned, hands moving as gently as he could manage over Bucky's heavy, full belly.

It felt incredible, a rush of pure want washing over Bucky's entirety as he breathed Steve in, pulled him closer still. He opened his mouth when Steve pressed at the seam with his tongue, eyes fluttering back as Steve's moved eagerly against his own.

They spent a few minutes there, exploring with their hands and mouths, before Steve eased his arms beneath Bucky's ass and pulled back with that hypnotic half-smile. “Shall I take you to bed?”

Bucky pondered for a moment, thinking anything would be more comfortable than the kitchen chair and that no part of him wanted to separate from Steve. “Only if we cuddle, just like in the barracks.”

Steve let out a nervous little chuckle and nodded, giving Bucky a swift kiss before he lifted Bucky out of his place with a quiet grunt. Bucky laughed through every step to their bed and despite Steve's sulking, he set Bucky down with the gentlest hands and settled between his thighs.

Bucky could hardly get enough of the sight, Steve's gorgeously flushed cheeks and chin disappearing behind the mountain of flesh that was his massive tummy. He sighed and leaned back against the pillows, humming out appreciatively when Steve’s hands and mouth began to soothe him: rubbing, pinching, groping, kissing.

Bucky woke up at seven the next morning in soft pajamas and Steve's strong arms wrapped solidly around his waist. His head didn't feel fuzzy or empty; he felt safe, awake, and alive. He smiled gently to himself, pleasant sigh leaving his nose.

“Buck?” Steve muttered, hands moving softly up and down his forearm. Bucky could tell by the clarity in his voice that he'd been awake for quite a while. “You up?”

Bucky nodded, pulling Steve a little closer. Steve cleared his throat, continuing. “Look, about last night—,”

“Unless you're about to talk about how amazing that was and how you wanna do it again everyday, I don't wanna hear it, Rogers.”

Steve chortled, all the tension Bucky felt leaving him in just a few seconds. “I'm glad you liked it, too.”

“Of course, I did. It was with you, wasn't it?”

Steve rolled his eyes and stole a kiss before dragging himself out of bed to make breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i almost finished editing this and then my computer crash so sorry about the typos but i kind of gave up the second time around. i'll probably come back and properly edit it later, but i just wanted to get it posted!
> 
> thank youuuuuuuu (: (:


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky spends a full day binging and Steve can't keep his hands, eyes, or mouth off of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the boys get p hot and heavy in this one
> 
> relevant slang~
> 
> minxy: sexy  
> ginchy: sexy  
> cool: kill

Steve anticipated leagues of change after he and Bucky shared their first kiss. Things did change, sort of; they snuggled more often than they used to, shared pecks whenever they felt like it (they felt like it rather often), and Bucky seemed to grant him overarching permission to touch him wherever, whenever. He certainly had his preferences for where he wanted Steve’s hands to wander and linger, specifically his thighs and his lovehandles and when he was full, Bucky’s favorite place for Steve to touch was most certainly that tight, pretty apex of his stomach.

He half expected Bucky to push him away or worse, thought maybe Bucky would find Steve awfully perverted for his fixation on his intake, but Bucky seemed to love it just as much as Steve did. Needless to say, he was deeply pleased with the outcome of the situation. The only thing Steve seemed to be lacking was confidence.

He'd never been good with dames or lads before taking the serum and certainly wasn't great with them after. He got hit on more times than he could count, stared at, even pampered, but all without a hint of effort; Steve couldn’t recall a single sexual interaction that doted more on his charm than his looks.

Steve always assumed that if his infatuation with Bucky ever came to fruition, being with him would be as smooth as cream cheese, but Bucky had a sort of confident force about him that made Steve weak in the knees and Christ, did he get a kick out of flaunting everything he knew his Stevie loved. Steve could hardly make it through breakfast without having to tuck his erection beneath the waistband of his boxers.

For the first few days, it was a steady coast of Bucky showing off, asking Steve for seconds and thirds, then requesting belly rubs until Steve's knuckles went sore, but not much else. It wasn't until Steve went on a bit of a baking bender that things became a little more complex.

Steve originally wanted to bake a chocolate chip cookie brownie cheesecake and got the idea that making them fresh would be ideal. Bucky threw back half a dozen thick slices of French toast, bacon, and grits while Steve slaved over a big batch of brownies. He figured a little extra wouldn't hurt anybody.

Despite the visible swell of Bucky's distended stomach, he managed to help himself to three brownies as soon as they'd cooled. Steve let him have half the pan as a midmorning snack and massaged his tight belly once Bucky realized he'd gone a little overboard.

Bucky's mouth tasted utterly decadent when he pulled Steve in for a steamy kiss. He _must_ have felt Steve's pathetic hard-on against his thigh through every second of it, but he didn't comment. He did, however, slide his fingers up and down Steve's sides and hum against his mouth, pulling back with a half-hearted grin.

“Great brownies, Steve. Can I sample the cookies, too?” The words came out of his mouth so smoothly that Steve felt a chill run down his spine, all the while his heart went nuts beneath his ribs. He cleared his dry throat and placed a large hand on Bucky's belly, marveling at how the expanse of it managed to make Steve's fingers look smallish in comparison.

“I'll make some extra.” Steve ensured, nodding. Bucky chuckled and lifted his hands to rest them behind his head, just beneath the top knot he tied his waves into. His shirt crawled up the curve of his stomach, exposing a slice of flesh dusted with dark hair. Steve stroked his fingers down and reached around to pinch the fat at Bucky's hips. He breathed slowly through his nose before finally slipping away and rushing to the bathroom without looking back.

Bucky was just too much.

“Gonna hop in the shower and then we'll hit that movie!” He exclaimed, as he slipped through the door, pressing his back against the wood the second he shut it. He was buzzing with nerves, hardly able to contain himself or his arousal. Bucky got him hotter than anything ever had and frankly, Steve had no clue how to process it.

Steve couldn’t so much as wait until he climbed into the shower to ease out his cock, giving it two firm pulls as he shivered out a moan, mind consumed with thoughts of Bucky. He stood there for a solid minute, hips twitching up through his palm before he finally stepped into the shower, hoping the longevity didn't seem too suspicious.

He got off in no time, his body all too accustomed to taking full advantage of two minutes of alone time for self pleasure because being Captain America didn't allow for much solidarity. He spurted onto his belly, leaning into the warm stream of water with his eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his orgasm, hips jumping through it.

It had become nearly habitual the last few days; Bucky bringing Steve to his breaking point and Steve fleeing because he was too pathetic to make a real move.

He washed up and made himself presentable. When he came back to the kitchen, he noticed two more brownies had disappeared and felt a jolt between his thighs.

***

Bucky's appetite was particularly high that day. He finished a whole large popcorn, even got a refill on his Icee during _Star Wars: The Force Awakens_ , then wolfed down a gyro and fries at the park. Steve could blame half of it on Bucky being so immersed in the movie—they had binge watched the series at Wanda’s suggestion in hopes of finishing before the newest film was out of the theater—but there was hardly any excuse for Bucky talking through a mouthful of meat and veggies like he hadn't eaten all day.

However, Steve couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

Bucky called Wanda the second they stepped into the apartment, shuffling into his bedroom to chat with her about how madly in love Poe and Finn are, something Steve didn't quite understand, apparently.

He decided to get the cookies started, wanting the cheesecake to have plenty of time to chill so Bucky could enjoy it soon after dinner. By the time Bucky was coming back into the living room with a content smile, 18 cookies were baking in the oven and Steve was looking over the Team’s suggested shows and films.

“I can't imagine any of this stuff is gonna top _Star Wars_ , Buck.” Steve shook his head, giving Bucky a playful smile as he plopped down onto the couch. “But we could try _Star Trek,_ stop Sam’s complaining… or this, uh… _X-Files_? Bruce and Natasha both mentioned that one.”

“Sam told me _X-Files_ would be too scary.”

Steve marked it, silently shoving it into the pile of things he'd try watching later, on his own. “ _Star Trek_ it is, then!”

Steve made his way over to the shelf of burrowed DVDs and selected the first season before Bucky walked him through the setup, even reminded him which way the disc went, as he often had to when they weren’t watching the readily available Netflix.

Bucky seemed engulfed the second the show began, wedging himself into Steve’s side while Steve wrapped a protective arm around Bucky’s middle. About halfway through the episode, Steve brought a dozen warm cookies into the living room after giving them a few minutes to cool. Bucky could hardly hold his tongue about the aroma and Steve was buzzing to treat him.

Bucky hummed in appreciation, taking the tall glass of whole milk Steve grabbed and dunking the first cookie in. He groaned a little at the gooey warmth after he took his first bite, eyes fixed to the flashing television. Steve didn’t get too much more out of the episodes, too busy watching Bucky mindlessly work through almost everything on the plate: Steve only had two cookies, plus he cleared the chocolate and crumbs off of Bucky’s chubby cheeks and his spongy double chin.

Eventually, Steve got off the couch and slipped into the kitchen to prepare the cheesecake. Once he finally left it in the refrigerator to chill, he didn't think he could spend another second near the stove. “What do you want from Delano’s?”

He mulled over the question for just a few seconds. “Pepperoni, onion, and mushroom.”

Steve smiled; Bucky hadn’t changed his order.

Steve ordered Bucky's pie in a large and got himself a medium cheese—Bucky would probably eat whatever he couldn't finish. Steve got hot just thinking about it.

“Too tired to cook?” Bucky crawled into Steve's lap just after the question popped, pulling him close with those strong arms. Steve nodded, sinking into the couch cushions under Bucky's weight.

“That's fair. You've been working really hard.” He accented the words by placing Steve's palm against the swell of his belly. “I've been pretty full all day.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, wrapping his free arm around Bucky's wide back. “I guess you've been loving the sweets.”

“I always love your sweets, Stevie…” Steve had just enough time to roll his eyes before Bucky was kissing him, hungry and needy, flesh arm holding tightly onto Steve’s hip to guide them in slow rolls.

Steve was throbbing against Bucky's plush thigh in no time, could almost feel pre-come forming at the tip of his cock with all the excitement. He wanted to run, jerk himself to satisfaction in private where he didn't have to face scrutiny or rejection, but Bucky was holding him there with his utterly demanding weight and somehow, it made Steve feel even hotter.

Bucky shifted to press his mouth up and down the strong line of Steve's neck, breathing hot against his skin. “Did you order me lots of pizza?”

Steve hummed out in affirmation, going rigid when Bucky pressed his mouth over Steve's collar bone to suck a tiny bruise there, licking over the spot.

“You’ve done a real solid job of takin’ care of me, Stevie. You really have.” Bucky shifted back again, staring intently into Steve’s baby blues. “When are you gonna let me take care of you, huh?”

Bucky used his good hand to reach up and stroke along Steve’s chin, making his tummy flutter and his breath stutter out. “I—,” Steve licked his dry lips, shaking his head, “Jesus, Buck, I can hardly think when you get this minxy.”

“I know you’ve been all nerves, Baby, I do, but you gotta trust me and more importantly,” Bucky closed the space between them, slotting his mouth easily with Steve’s and swallowing down the soft whimper that left him, “you gotta trust that I think you’re ginchiest guy on the planet.”

“Well, you’d be wr—,” Bucky cut him short with a heavy kiss, tongue swimming into Steve’s mouth with ease and precision that was utterly tantalizing. He heaved out a breath through his nose and finally let his body meld with the couch, all the tension rushing to his groin when he bucked his hips up.

He felt Bucky smile against him, body easily meeting the pace Steve set and hardly any time passed before Steve’s jaw was slack and open, eyes fluttering back as Bucky towered over him, body heavy and stable and strong. Steve actually felt tiny for the first time since he took the serum. He fell into sex-hazy bliss in no time kissing Bucky relentlessly whenever he offered his mouth and gasping whenever his wide hips hit Steve just right.

The buzzer ripped Bucky away from Steve much too soon and all the while, not soon enough.

“Wait here, I got it.” Steve carefully adjusted his cock as he stood and shot Bucky an offended look when he gave Steve's ass a light smack. He fished in his pocket for his wallet as he pressed the button, waiting not so patiently by the front door with the cash. He hastily traded with the delivery boy the moment the bell rang, departing with a rushed goodbye.

Steve brought Bucky’s pizza straight to his lap, smile wide and bright as he watched Bucky pry open the cardboard box and lick his lips. “Not sure whether or not you’ll really be able to eat all that, but I dunno, I thought—I thought you’d at least appreciate the notion, right?”

Bucky picked up the first slice, massive and hot and greasy, had half in his mouth with the first bite. He shrugged his shoulders as he chewed. “We’ll see. My belly’s been prepping all day, you know? I think I can do it.”

Steve gave Bucky’s shoulders a firm rub before slipping off to grab him an icy beer. He took it graciously upon Steve’s return and Steve noticed immediately that Bucky was already working on his second slice. The blonde took a seat and focused on his own pizza, or at least attempted to. It wasn’t easy, especially when he realized that Bucky kept up a steady pace of eating two slices to Steve's one.

Once Steve swallowed down the last bite of his third piece, he decided to take a break and tend to Bucky. He wrapped one arm around his back and placed the other on the fat, red bulge that had become of Bucky’s stomach. “How’re you feeling?”

Bucky pondered for a minute, picking up slice number seven, but sitting back against the couch to rest and breath nice and slow, in and out. “Fat.”

 “You look pretty fat.” Steve lowered his hand to squeeze Bucky’s tummy where it was still soft and malleable, the lovely roll that had developed along his hips. “You’ve looked fat all day, pigging out like this. I’d bet you’ve put on at least 15 pounds since we weighed you.”

Steve was too busy staring at Bucky’s red, angry stomach to notice that the soldier had frozen entirely, staring wide eyed down at Steve with a shocked expression. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Rogers…”

“God, Buck, I'm sorry, I—,”

Bucky cut him short with a hearty laugh, using his free hand to pull him in by the waist. “I swear to God, Steve, if you apologize one more time, I’m gonna cool you.” He swiftly kissed Steve's mouth and took a bite of his pizza just afterward. “It's gonna take me some time to get used to, but I kinda like hearing you talk about my weight like that. I like that you notice.”

“Yeah?” Steve's voice shook as he prodded Bucky's belly with his fingertips hoping to make a little more room and he seemed to, if Steve was judging by the way Bucky sank his teeth into the slice.

“Fuck, I might have to trade out those last pieces for some cake, Stevie.” He let out a huff through his noise, patting his side.

“Well, Bucky, you know,” Steve started, feeling his cheeks redden even as he spoke, “I think it's important that you finish dinner before dessert. We wanna keep your weight up, right?”

Bucky turned to him with a quirked brow, smile slowly creeping across his mouth. “You're full of surprises tonight, aren't you? Yeah, Steve, all right. We’ll make it a rule. Any more rules you wanna establish?”

Steve chewed his lip, suddenly feeling a rush from Bucky pushing him to call the shots. “I had an idea, but…I don't know, it's a little raunchy…”

Bucky rolled his eyes, took a bite of his pizza, and gave Steve an expectant stare.

“Okay,” Steve sighed, leaning in to kiss along Bucky's neck, not wanting to look him in the eye. “I just thought that it'd be nice if maybe…you couldn't get off until you finish all the food I give you.”

“Would that get you hot, Stevie?” Bucky accented his question with a hand between Steve's thighs, palming him. He leaned back and filled his cheeks again, hand moving in subtle jolts. “Me coming for you when I'm so full I can hardly move?”

Steve's mouth fell open, nodding desperately as he watched Bucky eat, cock at full attention and throbbing against his zipper. Bucky chuckled, licking his fingers when he popped the last bite past his lips. “Can I make a rule?”

“’Course…”

“As cute as you are when you're bashful, I want you tell me all the things you like about this. Maybe not all at once, but if it comes up or I ask, I wanna know. Deal?”

Steve nodded immediately, gasping when Bucky gave his cock a firm squeeze. “Good. Now, belly rubs, or else I'm never gonna finish.”

Steve inched forward, breathing slow and heavy as he placed two hands on Bucky, kneading in and working air up and out, until Bucky picked up another slice with a heavy grunt.

“You make a lot of noises that I like.” Steve murmured, hands still working. “Even your burping is ginchy and your little moans you make when you're full, but you- you can't quit.”

Bucky's cheeks went a little blotchy, but he kept on eating and Steve couldn’t stop his mouth. “And when you spread out, let your belly hang.”

Bucky glance down as if to inspect wether or not he was currently doing so and he was, beautifully. “I didn't know you were paying so much attention.”

Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead. “I've always been paying that much attention, Buck.”

“Okay, don't get all gooey on me, I don't wanna lose my dinner.”

“Right, because then you wouldn't get dessert.” Steve grinned, nibbling along Bucky's jaw as he dropped one hand between his legs, fingers dancing along the length of him.

Bucky gave a soft shudder. “I thought I couldn't come until I finished?”

“You can't.” Steve shrugged, splaying his fingers over Bucky's crotch. “But I thought this would be pretty motivating.”

“You'd be right…” Bucky whispered, inhaling his slice and plucking up another in almost no time.

He nibbled his way through with consistent breaks and breathers. He stacked the last two slices on top of each other and Steve carefully pulled out Bucky’s cock when he did, rubbing the tip of it against his underbelly.

Bucky let a low hum slip, hips rutting up until he finally swallowed down the last of his crusts. “Shit, a whole large pizza. I—,” he belched loudly, huffing out a labored breath, “I can hardly believe it.”

Steve locked his mouth to Bucky's, soft whine fluttering out as their hips began to line up, hand moving from Bucky's cock to his stomach. Steve pulled back much too soon, even in his own opinion. “You did an amazing job, Bucky. I'm so proud of you.”

“Uh, huh,” Bucky nodded, giving his hips a pointed rut, “you gonna touch me or what?”

“Well, I didn't think you'd like it so much if you can't come yet.”

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. “But I finished the pizza!”

“And I slaved over a cheesecake!”

Bucky's mouth dropped and he held for just a few seconds before dramatically rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “Fine. But I get a nap.” He paused, curving a brow. “And you have to feed me.”

Steve went pink from crown to toe, giving Bucky a heated kiss. “Deal.”

Steve struggled to tug down Bucky's jeans after the soldier requested some assistance, shaking his head as he did so. They were practically glued to his soft skin. He wondered how soon he'd need to trade them in.

Lulling Bucky to sleep once he was out of his pants was a breeze, after a few kisses and expert rubbing, he was completely out.

Steve took his opportunity to pick up the living room and kitchen, trying to ignore the buzzing excitement that'd formed from having a remarkable amount of provoking in a day. He could hardly wait until Bucky roused again.

After about an hour, he did, smacking his lips and scratching at his exposed belly. Steve slipped into the room the moment he heard a rustle, finding Bucky with his legs wide open, smile on his lips. “Good nap?”

“Really good. Dreamt about cheesecake.” Bucky patted his belly and Steve watched the waves move along his fat. He felt a bit faint.

“I'll bring you a nice big slice, okay?” Steve disappeared into the kitchen and did just as he promised, bringing almost a quarter of the cake and tall glass of whole milk into the living room, setting the drink on the table and letting the plate balance on the massive curve of Bucky's belly. It still looked shockingly full, or perhaps Bucky was just getting that much bigger.

Bucky used both hands to rub sweeping circles around his fat gut. “You remember our deal, right?”

“Never stopped thinking about it.” Steve muttered, forking up quite a bit of cheesecake and watching Bucky fit his mouth around it, a bit of wariness visible in his expression. “I promise I won't push you.”

Bucky nodded, breathing out through his nose and making his body relax while he thoroughly chewed and swallowed it down. He let his jaw drop, his eyes droop and Steve immediately went to work.

The first half went down more easily than Steve expected, but he gave Bucky a break anyhow, mostly because he wanted to worship Bucky's incredible belly directly, feel the tightness, kiss and lick along his skin. Although, it wasn't long before Bucky was itching for Steve to keep up the feeding; apparently, the cake was utterly decadent and he could hardly get enough.

Once the first piece was down, Steve tested the give of Bucky's belly, finding more room than he would have expected. “You think you can handle another?”

Bucky sighed, eying himself. Steve watched his gaze fixate on his embossed tummy, rising and falling along the delicious curve. He pressed his first into the convexity, belching. “I got a little room, yeah.”

Steve rushed out before Bucky could change his mind and came back with a piece of cake that was just as big as the last. He positioned himself as he had before but this time, he was sure to free up a hand so he could wedge it beneath Bucky's belly.

Steve wrapped his long fingers around Bucky’s thick cock, lip caught in his teeth as he lifted the first bite to the other man’s mouth. Bucky received it marvelously, tongue swiping out to lick crumbs off of his lips and Steve granted him a nice stroke for it.

Bucky's jaw fell in pleasurable bliss and Steve took the opportunity to shovel another daunting forkful past his lips. Again, Bucky ate it obediently and Bucky tapped the head of his cock against his warm stomach, stroking again. A broken gasp slipped, “Steve!”

“Just holler if you need me to slow down.” Bucky gave a firm nod before beginning to carefully rock his lips, accepting Steve's steadily paced bites.

Steve made it halfway through in amazing time and shifted to give Bucky another break. He groaned, “Just give me some milk and keep going. I don't wanna stop.”

“You sure, Buck?” Steve held the glass go Bucky's lips and rubbed his swollen belly as he guzzled, giving Steve's arm a tap when he'd had enough.

“Positive.” He breathed, beginning to rock his hips again and let his eyelids flutter closed. Steve did his part, spooning Bucky bite after until he was finally piling crumbs from the plate onto the last forkful.

Steve slipped it in, pressing himself flush to Bucky and kissed him deep once he'd gulped it down. “Bucky, you god damn blimp, I can hardly believe you ate all that.”

“Me neither,” Bucky was breathing hard and heavy, hips moving the slightest bit quicker. Steve struggled to jimmy down his jeans and boxers, wanting his skin warm against Buck’s.

He managed to drag himself out, using one hand to gather both cock’s in his hand and stroke them together. Bucky's thighs widened farther, palms pressing into his doughy belly flesh. “I'm really blowing up, aren't eye.”

“Like a damn balloon, Buck.” Steve wheezed, his hips coiling down to meet Bucky's. He groaned, the rate of his strokes picking up as well. “You've eaten like a damn maniac today, non-fucking-stop.”

“I know.” Bucky breathed, eyes softly rolling back. “God, I know. It felt so good to be that full.”

“Looked good.” Steve curled his spine over Bucky, kissing along his soft shoulder, up his neck and along his jaw. “You're absolutely delicious, you know that?”

Bucky didn't seem to have the focus to respond, too caught up in his pleasure to do much other than moan and hump, heaving through his mouth. Steve licked his lips, groping Bucky's pudgy waist with his free hand.

“You know you can come whenever you need to, right? You deserve Buck, you did such an incredible job today.”

“Oh, Steve!” Bucky inhaled sharply, eyes rolling back as his core tightened, hips stuttering up as he came hard onto his belly. Steve tumbled along just after him, feeling heat rush from his groin to the tips of his toes, a cry leaving his mouth as he came hot onto Bucky's skin.

They took a few minutes to breath and teeter down from their orgasmic high, Steve melding against Bucky's still protruding stomach.

Finally, Steve pulled away to grab a warm wash cloth and wiped the both of them down. He hefted Bucky into his arms and carried them into his bedroom after a bit of protest, crawling in along side of him like they had every night since the first.

“Stevie?” Bucky hummed, tightening his grip a little on the hand he clutched in his own. Steve sat up, staring down at Bucky with a tiny smile on his pink lips, nothing but eyes and ears.

Bucky gulped, turning to try and face Steve dead on. “Do I get to tell people were going steady?”

Steve let out a soft chuckle and smiled coyly, shaking his head. He could hardly believe he was hearing the words. “Yes, Bucky. You do. You could even tell people I'm your boyfriend if I get to tell people you're mine.”

Bucky pulled Steve in for a deep kiss, holding him close even when he leaned back again. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY DEEPEST APOLOGIES FOR HOW LONG THIS CHAPTER TOOK TO PUBLISH.
> 
> my car was stolen the weekend after the last chapter and i just kind of fell off the writing bandwagon for a little while. thankfully, my car was recovered with no damages and a only a couple items stolen.
> 
> thanks for reading and i promise the next updates will be more timely (:


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Button popping, buffets, and blow jobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: there is rape mentioned in the last installment and does not go considerably into detail, just one sentence. there paragraph is marked with a star if you want to skip it.

The new rules had Bucky packing on pounds quicker than he ever had.

He’d almost forgotten how enticing Steve was, how sex appeal came so naturally to him, without him even realizing. He blushed so easily, melted into putty whenever Bucky touched his hips or his chest, swayed his lean body in ways that were utterly tantalizing. Steve had Bucky hypnotized and he barely put in a hint of effort.

Not only that, but all the kissing and touching brought Bucky right back to wartimes, when he and Steve would huddle for warmth and get each other off beneath a thin blanket on the rare occasion that the barracks were quiet. They always excused it as a favor to one another, but Bucky knew better. He didn’t come to made up image of a dame in his mind, he came watching Steve with his jaw hanging open, holding back whimpers with sweat matting down his pretty blonde waves.

Once Bucky had a taste of it again, he couldn’t get enough.

But God, was Steve relentless with his meals. He knew how badly Bucky wanted him—he was rather open it about it because Steve turned to mush at even the slightest mention of his looks, but Steve took full advantage of it. He pushed Bucky to his limit at every single meal, all day long, flaunting himself as encouragement--and as Bucky’s limit climbed, his weight followed right along with it.

Bucky was currently working on lunch: thick, creamy macaroni and cheese with watermelon and baked potatoes. With his third plate nearly cleared and Steve refilling his drink, he took the opportunity to lean back in his chair and assess the damage. He felt enormous: the lower roll of his belly could hardly be contained by his jeans anymore, digging into his soft, fragile skin all around the diameter. The top of his belly was bulging and stiff, tight as a drum.

Steve set down the cup and broke Bucky’s focus, two hands grasping his doughy sides, kneading the flesh. “Hey, if you can’t finish this, we’ll call it and I promise, I’ll get you off after snack-time.”

“Am I witness to Captain America shamelessly bending his own rules?” Bucky chuckled, giving his head a gentle shake. Steve narrowed his eyes and huffed out through his nose while Bucky picked up his fork again. “I can finish.”

And with time, Bucky did, shoveling the final bite past his lips and groaning loudly when he dropped his utensil. “See?” He patted his belly and watched it jiggle, only to glance up and find Steve smirking, ridiculous arms crossed over his chest.

He cocked his head toward the half full glass of coke next to Bucky’s plate.

“Oh, come on!”

Steve only shrugged. “Can’t go bending the rules, can we?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and picked up the cup, tipping his head back with his lips on the rim. He closed his eyes and drank, feeling his stomach stretch and expand and grow until—pop! Off came his button.

He opened his eyes just in time to see it bounce off the table and land on the floor a few feet away, his gaze moving to Steve. The blonde’s eyes were glued to Bucky’s still quaking belly, his wide open jeans exposing pale softness, accented with red stretchmarks and indents from his too tight clothes. Bucky licked his lips, “I guess we’d better order some more, huh?”

Steve slid into Bucky's lap and melded their mouths together, licking past Bucky's lips with passion and heat he constantly yearned for. He was humping against Bucky's belly in almost no time at all, narrow hips drilling into his flesh as Bucky grabbed two handfuls of that marvelous ass.

Steve moaned lewdly into his mouth, wrapping his arms around Bucky's neck. He pulled back after quite some time, mouth wide open and hovering over Bucky's. “I can't believe you just did that, fuck!” He highlighted the word with a jerk of his hips, dragging a groan from Bucky. “You're getting fat so quick…”

“I know it, Stevie, all thanks to you.” He gave Steve's ass a good smack, squeezed into his flesh. “Just can't get enough of you or your food.”

“I can't get enough of you either. I want you to grow.” Steve breathed out the last words, kissing down Bucky's neck and below his collar bone, ran his lips over Bucky's flabby chest and dipped his lips beneath Bucky's belly button. “Can I taste you, Buck?”

“ _God,_ yes, Stevie, of course you can taste me.” Bucky lifted the bit of hang his belly had to give Steve better access, sighing out as his cock was eased from his boxers.

Steve leaned forward and licked Bucky from base to tip, lips molding over the head of his cock and boy, did he put that mouth to work. He swirled his tongue around Bucky's head, gave him curt sucks and swallowed him down as far as he could.

He kept Bucky's on his toes, never repeated the same motion long enough for him to climax; he used that deft tongue to tease, keep Bucky on the edge for a full three minutes before he finally let up.

“You wanna know somethin’, Buck?” He croaked, voice already hoarse. Bucky stared down at him, getting hotter just from the eyeful of red, full, used lips he got.

“I do.” Bucky nodded, cock throbbing when Steve bit his lip.

“I ordered jeans in the next size up because I knew you'd get bigger.” He murmured, one hand groping Bucky's fat while the other pulled Bucky's cock quick, hard strokes. “I knew damn well you wouldn't be able to quit eating like you did, and you still haven't. I'm willing to bet the next size might even be too small, with how you've been gorging.”

“I love it, Stevie, I love pigging out for you.” Bucky touched the top of his pillowy gut, breathing sharply in and out as he did.

“I love it too, Bucky.” Steve whispered, taking Bucky's head in his mouth again and this time, it was clear that his intent was for Bucky to finish. He worked his lips and kept on with his strokes, pulling Bucky's cock until the man was spilling onto his lips as Steve pulled his mouth back.

Bucky's whined through it, hips bucking from the sight alone. Steve licked him cleaned and moved up Bucky's body for a kiss, allowing the soldier to taste himself on his boyfriend’s lips.

He could hear the tall tell sound of skin hitting skin, an indication that Steve was getting himself off and there was barely a minute before he was spurting hot, long ropes on to Bucky's belly.

Steve sat draped over Bucky for a few minutes, catching his breath and collecting his thoughts while Bucky did the same.

He pulled back, looking sex drunk and sleepy. “We really gotta stop making such a mess.”

***

Steve's suspicion about Bucky being too big for the next size proved right. He called for Steve once he finally got them over his biggest roll, but couldn't clip them closed for the life of him. Steve managed to get it, but Bucky looked down right ridiculous with how his belly flowed out from the top.

"You must have really stretched out your old jeans." Steve muttered, brow nearly reaching his hairline as he stared at Bucky's waist.

Bucky nodded, struggling to keep his stomach sucked in tight, probably the only thing keeping the pants from ripping off of him entirely. "The other ones had a whole lot more give, huh?"

Steve finally stepped around Bucky to snuggle up behind him, wedge his arms underneath Bucky's and kiss up and down his chubby neck. "Guess we'll have to get you some more. Maybe we could order a bunch? You can try them on and we'll send the no's back?"

Bucky shrugged, thinking it sounded a bit convoluted over clothes. "How about we just go to the mall?”

“Sure, if you want…” Steve’s expression looked faintly concerned and Bucky suddenly remembered the happenstances that occurred at their last visit.

Bucky laid his hands over Steve's, smiling at his reflection in the mirror. “I freaked because I hadn't realize how big I’d gotten. Now that I know and I know I love it, I'm sure it'll be plenty fun.”

He wriggled his ass back a bit, reveling in the long hum Steve breathed out in response. “Sounds perfect.”

***

This time, Steve took Bucky to a plus sized store, with the assumption that if they wanted to buy Bucky jeans that would fit him two months from now, normal stores wouldn't quite provide.

They received plenty of assistance from the young woman who worked as an associate and Bucky actually came home with matching outfits in the size he currently wore and the next size up.

Steve treated him to a large Ice Cream Sundae and two king sized Reese’s. He worked on them while Steve did a bit of shopping for himself, stopping in a few stores before they left. Bucky didn't haven't room to complain about spending thirty minutes in a kitchen store if his mouth was full the whole time.

Steve left with about ten seemingly useless items, ones he claimed would allow him to make plenty more delicious meals for his Bucky, so Bucky chose to only tease him a little for it.

The both of them were buzzing with excitement as they loaded up the truck; Bucky felt refreshed with the idea of having a variety of comfortable clothes to wear and Steve could hardly quit chattering on about the soups he’d make with his immersion blender. Bucky decided the perfect excuse to look nice in his new clothes was to invite the Avengers over for dinner and Steve agreed, promising to make a date soon.

Bucky made himself comfortable in the passenger’s side of the vehicle and cheerfully bobbed his head along with the CD Steve had picked out.

“I've got an idea for dinner.” Steve coughed out about five minutes into the car ride. He glanced at Bucky as if to gauge his reaction. “It's a little different; it'd be in public.”

“Out with it, Steve.” Bucky prodded.

“It's called an all you can eat buffet. There are ones with Chinese food, got all your favorites: donuts, orange chicken, egg rolls, fried rice, all of it, and you can have as much as you'd like.”

“All you can eat, huh?” Bucky pondered, hand drifting to his belly. “Do they really want you to eat as much as you can?”

Steve gave a shrug, face scrunching up as he pondered. “Not exactly? They can't really say no, because it’s unlimited per paying customer, but there's kind of a five plate curtesy limit. But we don't _have_ to follow it.”

“But, given that we’re in public, you probably can't rub my belly, can you?” Bucky learned rather quickly what the boundaries of touches were after a bit of a mishap in the park.

Steve swayed his head back and forth, considering. “I mean, if we find a quiet corner and the table is high enough, I bet we could get away with it…”

Bucky leaned back against the seat, sinking his fingers into a soft, much too empty belly. “Let's go.”

The two of them found the most secluded booth in the whole restaurant. The table was just high enough for Steve to jiggle Bucky's belly without it being terribly noticeable. After ordering drinks, they both headed toward the food, Bucky following closely at Steve’s heel and reading each short description before choosing what items to fill his plate with.

By the time they were ready to head back to their table, Bucky had packed on quite a bit more food than Steve managed to: fried rice, chicken wings, dumplings, orange chicken, wontons, and a cup of fruit.

Steve rose a brow as Bucky shuffled into the booth. Bucky only shrugged, digging in the moment he was comfortable. “All you can eat, right?”

The both of them finished their plates about the same time; Steve stacked them together and pushed them to the edge of the table. “I think I'll grab a couple of those wontons. You want anything?”

Bucky nodded, of course, squinting as he peered across the room. “Definitely more of those wings…kinda wanted to try the egg foo young, too. Oh, and some lo mein. And egg rolls.”

“I'll try to remember all that.” Steve winked as he stood up from the booth and headed toward the food. Their server stopped by to grab their plates and refill drinks, with perfect timing for Steve to arrive back with a modest plate for himself and a staggering one for Bucky, piled high with all the items Bucky requested.

“Thanks, Stevie.” Bucky murmured, filling his face in almost no time at all. The egg foo young wasn't the best he'd had and the egg rolls weren't bad, though he loved the lo mein, would certainly help himself to more on his next plate. His breathing came a little harder about halfway through and Steve wedged a subtle hand against his belly, beneath the table.

“Think you'll have another plate?” Steve murmured, giving Bucky a pinch when he nodded. He jiggled the quaking blubber, shaking his head. “You'll be out of those new clothes in no time if you keep eating like this.”

“Well, I'm definitely not gonna stop eating like this.” Bucky muttered through a mouthful, licking sauce from the corner of his mouth. “So, I guess we'll need to do more shopping in a couple months.”

“I guess we will.” Steve leaned over to give Bucky's cheek a swift kiss, one arm curling across his shoulders while the other lingered on Bucky's steadily filling belly.

With the assistance of Steve's soothing hand, Bucky managed to slam back the rest of the plate. He leaned against the soft booth, breathing evenly in and out with his thighs gently spread, accommodating for his prominent stomach. Steve combed back his hair, smiling. “Need a second?”

“Yeah,” Bucky burped, downing half his Dr. Pepper in a few big gulps. It helped to work out a bit more air, creating some much needed room, and after a couple minutes of soothing belly rubs, Bucky asked Steve to make a plate of his choice favorites: wings, lo mein, dumplings, fried rice, and wantons.

He returned with a towering plate, one that was actually a bit intimidating, even to Bucky. Steve rubbed his back immediately, giving his mouth a sweet, light kiss. “I'll be so impressed when you finish this off, Buck. Bottomless pit, I swear…”

“Just when I think you can't push my limit…” Bucky shook his head, though the food did look utterly decadent. He took his sweet time, let Steve pamper and massage him through every second of his meal, even worked up a bit of a sweat toward the end. He took three breaks, had two more refills on the soda, recieved a few confused looks from their server, and belched loudly enough for the whole restaurant to hear at some point.

The last few bites had to be shoveled in by Steve when Bucky lost the capacity to do so much as lift his arms, but he finished. Steve couldn't get his hand between Bucky's legs fast enough, cheeks rosy as he eased his boyfriend out underneath the table and stole a few napkins to make the clean up quick.

“You're a blimp, Bucky, a fat, greedy, blimp.” Steve breathed, jerking Bucky with quick, frantic strokes, ones that had Bucky's belly tightening in almost no time at all.

“Stevie! Oh, _God_ , that's so good!” Bucky sighed out, trying desperately to keep his voice under control. Steve twisted his wrist, a tantalizing move that dragged Bucky right to the edge every time.

Steve readied the napkins and pressed his mouth hotly to Bucky's ear. “Come for me, Buck.”

The soldiers body seemed to respond to the command almost immediately, hips stuttering as he spilled into the napkins. Steve caught every drop and wiped him clean, licked into Bucky's mouth when he kissed him, but not nearly for long enough. “Can't wait to get you in the car, really feel how full you are.”

They relaxed in the booth while Bucky came down and Steve let him stay in his seat while he paid up front. He returned to help Bucky out of his seat and walked him out the door. Steve ushered him into the back seat and pulled his boyfriend on top of him, kissing with tongue and lust and curious hands.

Bucky gently eased his mouth away from Steve's, kissing his jaw, down his neck. “I just realized something.”

Steve hummed, thumbing along Bucky's pretty double chin. “What's that?”

Bucky inched a little lower, knees bending as he went, ass beginning to stick up and out behind him. “I never got dessert.”

Bucky closed his eyes when he finally got to Steve belly button, lifting up his shirt to plant strategic kisses around it. He flicked open the button of Steve's jeans, mouthing the bulge through Steve's briefs. “I wanna taste you, Stevie.”

“Please, Buck…”

He pulled out Steve's gorgeous, throbbing cock, stroking the length and circling the tip with his thumb. He started low, wrapped his lips around Steve's base and worked his mouth, eager. He licked his way up and closed the head of Steve's cock in his mouth, sucking hard as he inched down, down, down, as far as he could go.

*He came close to the base, moaning around Steve's length and opening his throat to the best of his ability. Bucky could hardly remember the last time he'd done this, let alone the last time he'd enjoyed it. HYDRA shamelessly used his body for whatever they saw fit, whether it was murder or pleasure seemed to make no difference.

He shook the thoughts from his mind, though, focusing instead on the fact that he'd been dreaming of having Steve in his mouth since the day he saw that pretty face on his pretty frame, even before the serum. He sucked Steve off happily, needily, like he'd hardly get the chance again, and Steve responded better than Bucky would have hoped.

His thighs trembled, cries of praise endlessly flowing from him as he buried his fingers in Bucky’s hair, tugging, guiding him with a gentle touch. Bucky worked, head bobbing easily along Steve's cock, fingers working at the base until finally, Steve was crying out that he was painfully close.

He spilled onto Bucky's full mouth, coating him with warm seed and Bucky licked up every ounce he could, milking Steve entirely dry.

“God, Buck…” Steve huffed, face beautifully blotchy when Bucky finally looked up to meet his eyes. He gave Steve a slow kiss, hands running along his lithe body, lingering near his ass.

Bucky gave his thigh a firm pat, grinning at him ear to ear. “You can thank me when we get home, with a real dessert.”

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed. “What, my dick ain't good enough?”

“It's okay,” Bucky shrugged, “but it ain't gonna make me fatter, Stevie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the wait! life got busy and then the election happened and yeah haha. hopefully the next one won't take so long ❤️ thanks for reading, pls come comment and chat (i could rly use the good spirits)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve rejoins the Avengers and Bucky finds entertainment in the little things.

Word made its way back to Tony regarding Bucky’s climbing health. Steve had been prodded by the man almost nonstop since Bruce relayed the report of Bucky's weigh in. “I gave you plenty of time to reintegrate robot boy to normal life, Rogers,” Tony bellowed on an extended voicemail, “and everyone and their mother knows he’s ready to fend for himself.”

Steve had half a mind to delete the message before he even finished the whole thing, but Tony’s labored sigh caught his attention. “As much as it physically and emotionally pains me to admit this, Cap, we— _I_ need you. The Avengers need you. Give me 9 – 5, even three days a week, and I’ll work with it.”

He sent Tony a text explaining that, if things went over well with Bucky, he’d be back in the tower on Monday to discuss his schedule, 9:30AM sharp.

Steve didn’t expect Bucky to take the news well. He prepared himself for a panic attack, ramblings of worries, anger, begging. He spent nearly an hour trying to choose the right words, to make sure Bucky didn’t feel for a moment like he was being neglected or punished or forgotten. Steve needed to ensure that Bucky knew that he came before any assignment or mission, first and foremost.

He uttered his practiced mantra over breakfast, just as Bucky was nearing the end of his meal.

“Okay,” Bucky muttered, wiping a bit of grease from the corner of his mouth as he placed his fork onto an empty plate. Steve made fresh biscuits and sausage gravy. Bucky helped himself to two plates, plus a bowl of cereal while Steve cooked. “When do you start?”

“We have a meeting on Monday to work out details.” Steve answered, steadying his expression, prepared for a multitude of questions.

“Cool. Just let me know.” Bucky stood with a quiet snort, patting his belly and bringing his plate to the dishwasher. “We should stop by the farmer’s market, soon, then. I wanna get started on that window garden, work on some maintenance skills while you're still around to help.”

“Wait, Buck,” Steve got to his feet as well, crowding close to his boyfriend, hands resting on his underbelly before they crawled around to his back and locked there, “you’re not…worried or, I dunno…anything?”

Bucky shrugged, pursing his mouth. “A little, yeah. I like having you around all the time, but some solidarity won’t be so bad, I don’t think. And now that we can text and junk, it’ll be like you’re right here with me.”

Steve let a pleasant sigh leave his nose, gave Bucky a long, much deserved kiss. “Exactly. And I'll be home in a heartbeat if you ever need me, okay? Just call and I'll be here as fast as I can.”

Bucky beamed and nodded his head, before placing his head on Steve's chest, breathing out an even sigh. “But seriously? Farmer’s market.”

***

Bucky spent the next week talking about and preparing for what he'd do with himself while Steve worked. He got his garden up and running with ease, bought the Harry Potter series, coloring books, materials for knitting, running shoes, and a whole slew of DVDs.

Steve didn't think he'd be bored for a moment, though that wasn't exactly what Steve was worried about.

The most pressing issue he could perceive was Bucky neglecting himself without Steve consistently reminding him to eat and sleep, giving him something to occupy his mind. But he did his best not to display his apprehension, only encouraged Bucky's independence.

And, whether it was Steve's guilt or his own anxiousness about leaving Bucky's side, he was pushing food at him like crazy, all of Bucky's most decadent favorites.

Pigs in a blanket, quiche, beef stew, fried chicken, mac and cheese, all of Bucky's guiltiest pleasures Steve willfully whipped up at the drop of a dime. He wasn't picky about Bucky snacking too much between meals, either, feeling bad enough to willingly bend his rule if Bucky ruined his appetite a little.

However, Steve never had to. Bucky licked every one of his plates clean, even when he had six cosmic brownies just an hour before dinner.

And of course, Steve complied happily to their agreement, sinking between Bucky's thick, dusted thighs every time he popped a final bite past his lips. He gladly sucked Bucky to climax, licking him clean every time and pulled his pudding over Bucky’s fat, bloated stomach if Bucky was just too stuffed to move. That in itself got Steve hotter than much else.

It was an exciting few days, but a certain melancholy drifted over Bucky on the last. He grew quieter, became distracted, and without Steve’s pushing, he expected Bucky wouldn’t have eaten nearly as much as he had the last week. Of course Steve, always thinking on his toes, saved Bucky’s favorite dessert for last: homemade rhubarb pie.

He didn’t let Bucky into the kitchen once while he was cooking, his only hint the sweet aroma of baked goods wafting through the apartment. Steve set the pie out to cool before he ushered Bucky into their bedroom, adorned his lips with a warm kiss, and told him to wait patiently for his very special dessert.

Bucky did so, sulking just enough for Steve to notice when he walked into the room, though he almost immediately brightened when he saw a perfectly golden crust in a tin pan. Steve beamed, bringing the portable table straight to Bucky’s bedside. “Fresh rhubarb pie, all for my best pal.”

He held out a fork and Bucky took it graciously, pulling Steve down to sit at his side as he sank the utensil into the warm crust and scooped out a considerable amount of sweet, gooey deliciousness. He pushed it into his mouth and moaned softly at the taste, shivering when Steve’s hand touched his stomach. “Damn, that’s good, Rogers.”

He had another bite, then another, eating quickly and steadily until about a third had disappeared entirely. Steve gave his belly a firm pinch. “Almost forgot to grab some milk for you. How about that strawberry flavor? I bet that’d be perfect.”

Bucky nodded, licking filling from his chin as Steve slipped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. When he came back, Bucky was still on a break and hastily grabbed the cup, sucking down almost half in no time. He placed the cup on his tray with a burp. “Feeling pretty stuffed, Steve…”

“Then put your feet up and I’ll do the work.” Steve assured, guiding Bucky’s bulky body to a more comfortable position, head on the pillows, thighs spread for Steve to settle in between. He plucked up the pie and balanced it on the bulge of Bucky’s belly, spooning him a modest bite.

Bucky closed his eyes and chewed, one hand resting on the curve of his stomach while the other settled on Steve’s forearm, squeezing it gently when Steve pressed his body flush against Bucky’s, hips grinding down with aching need.

“You're doing such a good job, Buck.” Steve hummed, his flow to Bucky's mouth unfaltering, hand working fast. “I think you're on your way to polishing off this whole damn thing.”

Bucky groaned, belching as he chewed. Steve kept on, free hand rubbing at the massive dome that had become Bucky's belly. His hips coiled and rutted, rate only slowing when Bucky's core went rigid, telltale sign that he was nearing climax. Steve’s hand went smoothly over Bucky's round dome, the other shoveling bite after bite to Bucky's awaiting lips.

Bucky's breathing was slow and heavy, each bite taking a little longer to chew and swallow than the last, but Steve kept on, offering frequent breaks to for Bucky to breathe and sip at his milk. It wasn't long before hardly any pie remained. “Just two more, Buck, I know you can do it…”

Bucky nodded, accepting the next forkful to his lips with a heavy sigh and a subdued burp. He took his time to chew, gulping it down and opening his mouth for the final bite. Steve fed it to him, wide eyes eager as he watched Bucky lick crumbs from chubby cheeks, entirely unable to breathe smoothly with how tight his belly was.

Steve slipped the tin away almost immediately, kissing along Bucky's soft neck, over his flabby chest, hips grinding desperately against his boyfriend’s. “Shit, Bucky, I-I’ve never seen a thing like that…”

“God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so stuffed.” Bucky let out a loud belch and rested his head against the pillows, body spreading as if to make more room for his bloated, angry stomach. He was still stiff, though, despite the discomfort, cock throbbing against Steve’s thigh; the heat of his arousal only inspired Steve to move a little faster.

“I don’t think so, either,” Steve breathed, both hands moving over the bloat of Bucky’s stomach, his own climax clawing at the edge of his mind. His breathing hitched as he bent forward, mouth slotting easily with Bucky’s. “Come on, Buck!”

Apparently it was all he needed, body going rigid and twitching as he spurting into the fabric of his briefs and Steve followed suit not two seconds later, making a mess of himself and taking a few moments to rest in the warmth of Bucky’s thick arms, his soft sides.

They snuggled there, collecting themselves, Bucky’s stomach settling. Steve huffed after a few minutes, when the gurgle of his boyfriend’s belly became a little less prominent. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

He dragged Bucky to his feet despite protest, ushering him into the bathroom and helping him peel back his messy clothes, his own sticky fabric falling off just as well. “Still like your showers burning hot, right?”

Bucky gave a firm nod, small smile on his mouth as Steve toggled with the knobs on the faucet. “Good, because I hate the cold.”

Steve and Bucky squeezed into the shower, sharing kisses in their close proximity and forgoing any chance of actually cleaning up for the first ten minutes. Steve enjoyed the steam filling their space, the familiarity of Bucky’s plump lips and hands, and of course, being able to explore his body without a hint of material stopping him.

He ran his fingers up and down Bucky’s sides, noting his new rolls and valleys, places that had grown much softer than the once were. He wrapped his arms around the widest point of Bucky’s midsection, testing whether or not he could still lock his arms around him. He could, but hardly. His hands shifted down Bucky’s hips, squeezing gently at his plump ass and Bucky chuckled against his mouth. Steve could only imagine the way he must have flushed in embarrassment.

He certainly noticed a red tint to Bucky’s skin when he pulled back, despite his exacerbated expression. “I didn’t come in here to fondle, Rogers. I came in here to get cleaned up and then go to bed.”

“Well, then, let me clean you up.” Steve shrugged, planting a light kiss to the tip of Bucky’s nose before plucking up the body wash and lathering it between his hands. He scrubbed Bucky down, paying particular attention to his belly and thighs, rubbing them clean, not missing one nook in Bucky’s delectable frame. He cleaned Bucky’s hair, dragging his fingers through the locks until it was oil free, massaging his scalp when he rubbed in conditioner.

Bucky returned the favor, helping Steve wash his back and waves, hands as gentle as he could manage. Both men enjoyed the warm, firm stream of water beating their tight muscles lose, feeling all too safe in the presence of one another.

Once they were both free of suds and soap, Steve stopped the water and stepped out of the tub to collect a few towels, taking a few seconds to admire Bucky from afar before handing him one. He only grinned wider when Bucky finally rolled his eyes and put out his hand. “Steve…”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” Steve chuckled, giving Bucky one towel for his hair and another for his body, not taking his eyes off Bucky for a moment. “You are beyond sexy.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he tightened his towel around his middle, tousling his hair with the other and Steve had to push his jaw shut to keep from gaping. Steve was sure he would have seen Bucky flush red if he wasn’t already sweltering from the shower. He shook his head, all the while crowding closer to Steve. “And you’re a damn dog, Rogers.”

“I am always looking for a bone.” Steve winked, earning a firm shove from Bucky as he pushed his way passed him and through the bathroom door. They toweled off with Bucking making a show and pretending to be embarrassed about Steve’s comments, “God, the way you jiggle”, “When did your ass get that fat?”, “I hardly know how you’re up and moving considering, you know, a _whole freaking pie_ ”.

It wasn’t long before the two were snuggled up on Bucky’s mattress, Steve’s hands latched firmly around his boyfriend’s middle, chin buried in the crook of his chubby neck. He kissed behind his ear, reveling in the way Bucky squirmed and giggled, just before he rolled over to face Steve head on.

“I think it’s important that you go back to work and I’m glad you’ve decided to,” he started, not meeting Steve’s eyes, as though he couldn’t muster up the courage to do so, “but… I’m really gonna miss having you around all the time.”

Steve couldn’t help breaking the tiniest smile, leaning forward and kissing the tip of Bucky’s nose as he brushed his waves back. “I know. I’m gonna miss being here with you, every second. And if for even a moment you feel like it isn’t working or that something needs to change, we’ll talk, okay? I promise.”

Bucky gave a stiff nod and shoved his face into Steve’s broad chest, breathed him in, wrapped himself tightly around Steve’s firm frame. Steve rubbed his back melodically, gentle hum flowing from his nose as he planted a kiss to the crown of Bucky’s head. He cleared his throat, moving away from Steve just enough to speak.

He hesitated, for only a moment. “I love you, Stevie.”

As many times as Steve had heard those words come from Bucky’s lips, it had never felt quite so permanent, salient, or sure. “And I love you, Buck.”

***

Despite the Avengers meeting only being scheduled for a couple of hours, Steve still stocked the fridge with unlimited items ready for Bucky to reheat in seconds. He cooked up a nice, plentiful breakfast, being sure to wait until Bucky finished every last bite before he departed.

Not that it was much of a challenge for Bucky, finishing a meal.

He departed at 9:00AM sharp with a kiss to Bucky’s mouth and a somber smile as he slipped out of the door. Steve hardly took his eyes off his phone for the entire Uber ride, finally shooting Bucky a text when he was about five minutes away from the tower.

Steve: don’t forget, you can always text me. i won’t turn my phone off

Bucky: i kno stevie, u’ve been gone for 20 min

Bucky: u’ve had longer shits. i’m good

Steve: ok. love you

Bucky: love u 2

The team bombarded Steve with hugs and laughs for a full two minutes after he made his way into the tower and the next five were spent with Steve answering dozens of questions, ignoring the alarming amount that involved his and Bucky’s sexual experiences.

“But…you are officially together, right?” Wanda asked, after Steve earnestly requested that the finally start the meeting.

“Yes, we are officially together. He’s my boyfriend.” Steve couldn’t help the light flush to his cheeks or the glee he felt just announcing the words. Natasha gave his bicep a playful whack, grin wide with pride as she made her way to the round table.

“About time you idiots finally settled down.” Tony commented, following swiftly behind Natasha, Thor at his heel. “Kinda weird that it took a sixty pound weight gain to get you there, but whatever floats your boat.”

“Okay, it had nothing to do with that…”

“Really?” Tony asked, crossing his arms over the table, devious smile on his mouth. “Because according to Nat, you get awfully offensive at even the prospect of him thinning out.”

Steve shot Natasha a glare and she replied with a shrug of her shoulders and a seemingly innocent expression. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “Yes, Tony, I do, because I had to drop everything and work my ass off to get him back up to a normal weight. And if you don’t mind, I’d really love to get to business, okay?”

Tony huffed out a laugh, glancing around the table. “Hell, you weren’t kidding.” Steve heard a distinct thump beneath the table and caught and angry look thrown from Tony to Sam. He smiled to himself, just as Tony rolled his eyes and huffed. “Okay, fine, business. First things first, how often do we get you?”

“We’re thinking Monday through Wednesday with hours dependent on the situation.” Steve answered, pulling his phone from his pocket just after a buzzed. He heard Tony click his tongue and dutifully ignored it, opening the message from Bucky.

Bucky: how long do i nuke the spaghetti for?

Steve: 2 min, stir, 1 min

Bucky: is there garlic toast?

Steve: check the freezer and use the toaster oven

Bucky: ok. i’ll let u know how it tastes

Steve popped back into conversation just in time to hear Vision droning on about weekends being a more adventitious schedule. He simply nodded his head once Vision concluded, scratching through his waves. “Sure, I can be flexible.”

Tony clapped his hands together. “Great. So, we’ll start with Thursday through Saturday, see where it goes from there?”

“Sounds good to me.” He murmured, reveling in the bright expressions of his team, all giving him warm eyes and encouraging words. Admittedly, he was excited to be surrounded by his friends again, already reveling in the bad jokes and poking fun, the only thing missing being Bucky.

He got a text just as Tony queued up the hologram, displaying the potential route of an intergalactic criminal that was supposedly causing enough trouble to grasp the attention of the Avengers. He opened the text beneath the table, trying to subdue the smile that crept across his lips as he read it.

Bucky: not as good as it is fresh, but still good

Steve: glad you like it

Bucky: do i send u a picture of my plate when i finish?

Steve looked up from the screen, working to keep his expression as steady as he possibly could. Everyone seemed too engulfed in Tony’s instructions to pay much mind to Steve; he felt a little guilty for not giving this every ounce of his attention, but he promised Bucky he’d reply to each text.

Steve: and your belly (;

Bucky: u got it, cap.

Steve waited a little impatiently for a message back. When he was with Bucky it was all so fast, feeding him and staring mindlessly as he consumed without effort, never giving Steve much room to think about how long he’d sit there, watching Bucky stuff down mountains of food. Just thirty minutes felt like hours.

Steve received two photographs: one of Bucky’s plate with nothing but a few lingering crumbs and one of his bloated gut, tight shirt dragged down to cover his skin.

Steve: nice job, buck. make sure you have some cookies, too, maybe a sleeve of oreos?

Bucky: ur kinda pushin it, but ok

Steve: did you water your plants?

Bucky: yes steve

Steve: did you load your dishes?

Bucky: /: yes steve

Bucky: don’t u have a meeting to pay attention to?

Steve looked up to find Natasha’s eyes locked to him, the redness to his cheeks deepening almost immediately under her gaze. She only smiled and shook her head, eyes wandering back to Tony and Steve followed suit.

Steve managed to focus for roughly 15 minutes before his phone buzzed again.

Bucky: u kno i was kidding right?

Bucky: finished the cookies

Steve: i’ll need photographic evidence

Bucky sent two more pictures his way: one of the empty row of cookies and another of his painfully swollen stomach. This time, Steve couldn’t help noticing the bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants, visible even through the camera.

Steve: perfect, bucky. you can go ahead and take care of that hard-on and then have yourself a nice warm shower

Bucky: okay, stevie. love u. thank u <3

Steve managed to make it through the remainder of the meeting with just a couple more interruptions, once when Bucky got a little startled by the ice maker and again when he couldn’t find the Blu-Ray remote.

Tony closed the meeting with a few genuine words of gratitude and Steve took a few minutes to chat with everyone before departing, an undeniable swell of excitement in his belly at the prospect of coming back in just a few days, fighting for the good of the world yet again, all knowing his Bucky would be safe, happy, and secure.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries something new in his solitude and deals with the consequences of his trauma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with Bucky's sexual assault and PTSD. I don't go into too much detail, but the paragraphs with direct mention of his assault are marked with an asterisk. PLEASE do not hesitate to leave comments for any missing tags/warnings, everyone should feel safe reading this.

Bucky felt he did a nice job keeping himself occupied during Steve’s absences. He read a lot, currently engulfed in the _Harry Potter_ series and shamelessly fangirling with Thor, of all people. His garden was beginning to flourish: the herbs he planted would be ready for Steve to use within the next week. He was even starting to understand little niches of the future society: Wanda helped him make a blog and the Google tool enabled him to research any of the references he didn’t quite get. He also ate. A lot.

Bucky hadn’t realized how much dismal distraction just being around another human was. He had something to do with his mouth and hands, had something to grasp his attention entirely. Even being able to look up and watch Steve cook for a minute between chapters occupied him, in some way or another. He found himself dragging snacks around the house with him, the sound of his own crunching and moving hands enough to bring his anxiety down a notch.

Steve also had the tendency to survey the kitchen when he got home, whether he realized it or not. Bucky hardly noticed the gravity of the comments until Steve’s second week out, when he arrived home on a Saturday night. They’d hardly gotten the chance to spend time together; Tony kept him late Thursday and Friday, too, their mission requiring a little more time and manpower than anticipated.

Thankfully for Bucky, Steve still had plenty of energy when he clamored through their door, crowding Bucky against the island in the kitchen and molding their mouths together with a soft hum. He pulled back, eyes scanning the room before they met Bucky’s. “Hey. Good day?”

“Do I even need to tell you? You sent me about 600 texts…”

“Just wanted to remind you to shower and nap and eat.” He plucked up an empty box of Girl Scout Cookies, winking. “But I’m not so sure you need reminding.”

Bucky felt a tingle run up his spine as Steve stalked to the fridge and tore it open. “You know, it’s kind of tough trying to plan meals when I get home and a whole quarter of the ingredients have been swallowed up by my bottomless pit of a boyfriend.”

Bucky had to gulp down the squeak that almost tumbled past his lips. Steve glanced over, swiftly swinging the fridge shut when he caught a glimpse of Bucky’s shocked expression. He approached Bucky with determination, hand splaying over the dome of Bucky’s still slightly swollen tummy.

“Seriously. You ate all the bacon, the beef stew leftovers, the enchilada leftovers, and should I even bother looking for cereal or chips? You’ve been blowing through those like crazy.” He shook his head, hand drifting down Bucky’s side, pinching the excess at his hips. “I know I’ve been working long hours, but…you know I’m always gonna feed you when I get home, right?”

Bucky gave a tight nod, licking his lips. “Gotta have it all, I guess.”

Steve beamed, giving Bucky a swift kiss before opening the fridge again. “All right, all right, I’m thinking… Mac and Cheese with hot dogs? It ain’t nothing special, but I bought the Kraft boxes, I remembered loving that junk during the war.”

“I remember loving it, too.” Bucky nodded, slipping onto a barstool while Steve set out necessary ingredients. “Doesn’t take too long to cook, does it?”

Steve put the water on boil, lifting a brow as he readied a pan. “You say that as if you could possibly be hungry.”

“Well, it’s been a little while since my last snack.”

Steve pretended to ponder while he sprinkled a bit of oil onto the pan, meat sizzling when he dropped it in. “Really? I could have sworn you sent me a picture of that empty cookie box about an hour before I got home.”

Bucky couldn’t help his skin bleeding an even deeper shade of red. “Well, I think I had a few yesterday.”

“Yup. I remember you crawling back into bed with crumbs all over your mouth.”

Steve only turned around when Bucky’s prolonged silence apparently lasted a second too long. His grin widened when he looked into Bucky’s eyes, the gaze of a hunter fixed to its prey. Bucky could only utter a quiet hum.

“Well, to answer your question, it cooks up real quick.” Steve winked, turning back to the stove and slaving effortlessly.

Within twenty minutes, Steve had a steaming pot in the center of the table. He brought Bucky a tall glass of milk while the meal cooled and dished out a heaping serving into a bowl for Bucky. Steve sat across from him, smiling widely as Bucky helped himself to his first few bites. “How is it?”

“Not as good as when you make it from scratch, but the nostalgia feels kinda nice.” Bucky shrugged as Steve chuckled, nose wrinkling up in a way that made Bucky feel warmer than the food. He finished his first bowl in almost no time at all, fork scratching along the porcelain as he scooped up the last noodles and popped them in his mouth.

Steve picked up the dish before Bucky could protest, filling it to the brim and heading to the kitchen to top off his milk as well. “You’ve been drinking, right? Water, milk, soda, no liquor when I’m not here.”

Bucky blinked, pondering for a moment. “Well, the last part is true…”

“Have water when you’re thirsty and at least one glass of something during a meal, okay?” He swiftly slid into the seat next to Bucky, tousling his hair with one hand and resting the other on Bucky’s tummy. “Not that you need much more. I can’t believe I was actually worried about you eating enough…”

“I guess once I get going, I just can’t quit.” Bucky shrugged, taking a massive bite for emphasis. “And, you know, I get why you cook. All I ever do is reheat stuff in the oven, but it’s kinda relaxing, in a way. The only thing I’m missing is tummy rubs.”

“Well, I guess I’m really gonna have to make up for it during the week, aren’t I?” Steve grinned ear to ear, already pressing delicately into Bucky’s flesh, giving his mouth the gentlest kiss when he swallowed down the bite. “I honestly gotta make up for a lot of stuff.”

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Like what?”

“Like taking you places, learning with you, adventuring.” Steve shrugged, hand dropping to Bucky’s thigh, gently squeezing there. “Being a good boyfriend, you know?”

“You’re the best boyfriend. Who else would come home at 10PM after a long day of kicking ass and still cook a huge dinner?” Bucky scoffed at Steve’s eye roll, giving him a light shove with his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t call three boxes of macaroni and cheese huge, but…you’re welcome, I guess.”

Bucky granted him with a swift kiss, patting his belly with a grin across his lips. “Thanks, Stevie.”

***

Steve always kept true to his word. The days he wasn’t at work, he was toting Bucky to as many places as they possibly could in a day. They visited museums: history, art, and science, took walks, saw movies. Steve exhausted Bucky throughout the week enough to make him look forward to a little rest on the weekends. However, he still felt a pang when Steve kissed him goodbye on Thursday morning.

Despite that Steve provided Bucky with an ample breakfast, he found himself rummaging through the cupboard not twenty minutes after Steve left. He made popcorn to accompany his viewing of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ since he’d finally finished the book, being sure to text Steve about how much he was missing out on the whole way through.

Once the film was over, Bucky worked on his garden for a couple of hours, getting his hands dirty and enjoying the sunlight before coming back in to reheat a few bowls of chowder over the newspaper. He fell asleep on the couch, too full and too lazy to get to his feet again after he sat down with a package of Hoho’s to follow his lunch.

He woke up not an hour later, read on the porch for a bit before deciding the weather was perfect for a lengthy walk. He slipped into his new shoes and explored the city, stopping once for a large smoothie and again for a killer waffle cone with home made ice cream.

A while after returning home, Bucky made three fried bologna sandwiches out of boredom, grabbed the remainder of a bag of family sized chips, and munched while he dinked around online, sending Steve photos (or “memes”, as their friends call them) Bucky knew he would find more frustrating than humorous.

The last photos he sent were of his empty plate and achingly full tummy, to which Steve replied with some heavy teasing (do I need to come home just to tell you to quit? Seriously, Baby, you might pop!) and permission for Bucky to get himself off. Bucky got a rush just at being told he could.

He didn’t bother with making his way to his bedroom; he was perfectly alone and he and Steve did plenty of hooking up in the kitchen, anyhow. He grabbed a few napkins and sat back in his chair, palming himself through his sweatpants, pondering whether he’d tease and take his time with himself, the way Steve would.

He threw the idea out the window the second he eased out his cock, as he often did, tugging firmly on himself while his breath hitched, desperate and quick. He’d almost forgotten what it was like, having the solitude required to enjoy himself, just the way he loved.

Then, Bucky’s eyes flew open, the sudden remembrance of an incredible act sending a jolt straight to his groin. It was frowned upon in his day, an indication of being queer, but being queer was perfectly acceptable in the future and an identification he was happy to sit with.

He slowly got to his feet, making his way to Steve’s room, of all places. He hadn’t been in there in weeks, considering they naturally began to cohabitate once they were seated in their label and romantic dynamic, but he had a feeling Steve had what he was looking for. Sure enough, after just a few minutes of rifling through drawers, Bucky procured a container of Vaseline.

He bit his lip, making himself comfortable on Steve’s mattress and working down his briefs and jeans, forgetting them on the floor. He pushed up his knees and grabbed the container, resting it on his belly and scooping out a dollop with his pointer finger. He closed his eyes, attempting to relax as he circled his opening, working it gently until the digit sank inside. His breath hitched and his hips bucked, shifting down onto his finger until he was fully seated.

Bucky rocked, moving delicately until his body adjusted to the stretch and he finally eased another finger into his hole, groaning softly as he opened up. He scissored, wincing a little at the pace of the stretch, but Bucky didn’t harbor too much patience, at least not with himself.

He pushed another finger inside, grunting quietly as his lip curled up in discomfort. He kept moving though, determined and mindless. Bucky swallowed down the pain, opening himself up in much less time than even a super soldier would typically need.

*He was used to it, somehow. Bucky couldn’t pinpoint why in that moment, but he knew he didn’t require a steady stretch. He didn’t deserved it. The soldier was a tool, he was a weapon, he was a toy to be used whenever his handlers—

*Bucky shook his head, realizing he’d been staring emptily for a few seconds already. He swallowed, breathing gently in and out, trying to focus on anything other than those horrific memories. He stood up from Steve’s bed and headed to the bathroom to rinse his hands, drying off on his shirt and making his way to his bedroom with a warm, damp towel to clean up properly. He managed to distract himself enough to at least block the memories for the time being.

He slipped into his comfiest pajamas and rang Steve, who picked up even quicker than Bucky expected. He didn't reply after Steve gave him a "hello", still a little stunned. “Buck? You okay?”

“I don’t know.” He muttered, the most honest answer he could give. Admittedly, he felt a little better just hearing Steve’s deep, smooth voice. He let his eyes slip shut as he resonated with the calmness of it, still focusing on breathing evenly.

“Are you in a safe place?” Steve asked, to which Bucky hummed out a yes. “Good, good. How can I help? Just needing to talk?”

“Yeah, if you’re not busy—,”

“’Course not, we just got back to base, actually. Debriefing and then I’m heading back to the apartment.” Steve explained, that voice instantly sending warmth to Bucky’s core. “Should I pick up dinner? I know you had a big snack, but—,”

“Snacks aren’t dinner.” Bucky smiled, wide and excited. Just the thought of snuggling on the couch with Steve eased his anxiety and the addition of a big, hefty meal made him feel all the more comfortable. "I've been craving ribs..."

"That is definitely on the list of foods that need to be cooked from scratch, at home, with the best ingredients." Steve quickly reprimanded, words firm. "I'll get on planning a barbeque with the team—in the meantime, maybe...that burger joint we've wanted to try for a while? Smells good, but we always choose the Mexican place?"

Bucky hummed in affirmation, absently patting his stomach. "Yeah, they had a barbeque burger on their menu, right? Grab me two of those, and medium wedges."

"You know they make three quarter pound patties, Buck..." Steve muttered, though Bucky could practically hear the lust dripping in his tone. It only made him all the more confident in his ability to eat every last bite.

"Make it large wedges." Bucky told him, smiling when he heard Steve groan softly into the speaker.

"Whatever you like, Buck."

***

Steve returned in no more than thirty minutes with two greasy bags that instantly had Bucky's tummy rumbling. After hanging up the phone, Bucky focused his energy on belly rubbing techniques that increase appetite and spent practically all his waiting time pressing his fingers in special spots, trying his damnedest to make enough space for everything he ordered.

Steve would never fault him for not finishing, of course, but by now, Bucky's drive had become almost entirely innate. He didn't need a source other than his anxiety to eat until he couldn't possibly fit more in his belly—and often times, he hardly needed that.

He did, however, have limited space for food and certainly needed all the help he could get in making more.

The first bite of his burger confirmed it: the carmalized onions, mushrooms, pepper-jack cheese, thick sauce, and savory patty between two fluffy buns was as filling as it looked. Half the burger was down in a blink, before it really settled, but he had to rest with a few fries once his consumption actually hit him.

Steve seemed as floored as usual with Bucky's intake capacity. "Usually, I'd assume you were just starving, but I know that isn't possible."

Bucky chuckled, pressing his belly in the same spot he'd read about. "I just prepared myself for a big meal, Stevie."

"I can tell." Steve murmured, giving his forehead a delicate kiss, his other hand resting on his thigh. "Does it have anything to do with earlier? When you called?"

Bucky swallowed, pausing the flow of wedges to his mouth. Frankly, he wasn't sure and he didn't exactly see why it mattered. Steve knew better than Bucky that food made him feel at ease, there wasn't anything wrong with that. "I dunno, who cares?"

Steve shrugged, thumb sliding gently along Bucky's sweats. "Just remember that we can talk, too. I love feeding you and I love that food helps ease your mind, but… it only works because we talk and we cope and we work hard to make sure we’re fixing problems.”

Bucky nodded, starting on his wedges again with a shrug of his shoulders. “It was one bad day. There’s nothing to talk about, Steve. I promise.”

Steve didn’t look too sure, but he dropped the subject regardless, stealing one of Bucky’s wedges before he swatted the captain’s hand away with a scowl. “You should have gotten your own if you wanted some!”

“When did you get so darn greedy?” Steve asked, though his smile definitely told Bucky he wasn’t terribly upset about it. Bucky responded with a hefty bite of his burger, licking sauce from his thumb as he chewed and Steve dramatically rolled his eyes.

The remainder of their meal didn’t bring much more tenseness, that was until Bucky popped the last of his wedges into his mouth and Steve’s hands were roaming beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“Your hard work today _definitely_ shows.” Steve hummed, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s mouth, slotting their lips together in a fluttering hum. “You’re getting so, so big…”

Bucky gave a swift nod of his head, keeping his hands steady on either side of his rumbling stomach, still processing the onslaught of his meal.

“How would you like your reward, Doll?” Steve asked, hands shifting down Bucky’s belly and over his groin, gently grasping his cock with a quirked brow and loving smile. It felt as good as always, Steve was as enticing and warm and safe as always, and he felt as turned on by his remarkable fullness as he always did, but Bucky still froze, holding his breath until Steve seemed to realize and pulled back his hand. “I—are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Bucky swallowed, gaze hitting the floor as he tugged down his shirt and sat forward, arms crossed in his lap. “I’m just—I’m actually pretty tired. I did a lot today…and…I—I just, I think I should just go to bed.”

“Oh… okay, sure thing, Buck.” Steve muttered, getting to his feet and putting out an arm to help Bucky go to the bedroom. “I’ll tuck you in and come to bed after I clean up, okay? Will you be all right alone?”

Bucky nodded, following Steve to his room and letting him carefully ease Bucky onto the mattress, pulling up the covers and making sure he was comfortable, content. Steve looked down at him, those stunning blue eyes and pink lips easing the painful pounding in Bucky’s chest. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, dragged his fingers down the line of Bucky’s jaw, and gave a light sigh. “I love you. Sleep well, okay? Holler if you need me.”

“Sure thing, Stevie.” Bucky nodded, pressing forward for a proper kiss before sending Steve off and turning over with the intention to sleep. By the time Steve crawled into bed three hours later, Bucky still hadn’t slept a wink, but pretended well enough for Steve not to question it.

Funnily enough, the second Steve’s arms were around Bucky’s middle, strong and warm, he finally felt safe enough to actually drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for reading!!! if you're worried about the angst/sadness, i start resolution in the next chapter and it definitely gets happier again (: feel free to comment and visit my [blog](http://scottmcchubs.tumblr.com)!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve finally talked about Bucky's experience with HYDRA and also make chili.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MENTION OF PAST SEXUAL ABUSE!!! paragraphs marked with asterisks. again, if there are any tags/warnings/etc. missing, let me know! (:

It seemed that Steve had finally come to his first road bump with Bucky since his rehabilitation. Thus far, there were few things that Bucky wasn't totally honest with Steve about; after all, they were partners in every sense: best friends, lovers, as close as two people could possibly be.

But it was clear that something was eating at Bucky. He shut down practically every time Steve made an attempt at touching intimately—not that Steve needed to be physically intimate with Bucky at every turn and not that he didn't completely respect Bucky’s obvious refusal for sex, he simply couldn't understand why. He asked, of course, repeatedly, but a Bucky gave the impression that not a thing was wrong.

Steve couldn't remember a time when Bucky lied to him intentionally. Of course, at this point in his life, Bucky had plenty of missing links and chunks of his own reality lost so deep in his mind that they'd likely never be recovered, but that was through no fault of his own.

At his core, Bucky was among the most open and honest people Steve had known. He could guess that the intention behind Bucky's vagueness was hardly deceit: perhaps he really had little to no clue what was making him so apprehensive, maybe he hardly noticed his apprehension at all.

He'd been debating bringing it up to Bucky’s therapist for a few days. He knew that it was normal for people to drop in libido, but this wasn't as simple as Bucky saying he's not in the mood and rolling over, this was Bucky completely switching modes every time Steve even attempted at deepening a kiss.

Bucky shrank: turned cold, quiet, obedient. Steve didn't want to believe it, but it felt eerily like the Winter Soldier coming forth every time. Steve could hardly imagine why his touch would be that triggering and every possibility he could imagine was so painful that Steve tried to neglect the thoughts entirely.

The worst part was that the longer it went on, it seemed, the worse it got.

It'd been a week since the initial incident when Steve prodded Bucky for the last time. It was after Steve opted to turn off the Hunger Games just 45 minutes into the film. Wanda had mentioned it was a little gruesome, but Bucky begged Steve to let him watch.

Steve really needed to learn how to resist those damn eyes.

“Buck?” He started, rubbing his back as Bucky came down from a small panic attack. His breathing had become even enough for him to speak, cheeks no longer burning, running tears coming to a halt. “Do you wanna talk about this? Or- or anything going on?”

Bucky managed a short shrug as he tightened his grip on Steve, actually making it a little tough for him to breathe. “It's just a movie, right? Plus, you're here. I'll be okay.”

“Good, Buck.” Steve nodded, pausing a moment and collecting his thoughts before he braved up enough to continue. “But, ah… I mean, is there anything else?” He asked, gently nudging Bucky's face up with his forefinger and thumb, giving the soldier a glowing smile. “You know you can tell me absolutely anything.”

“I know, Stevie. You've been saying that a lot, lately.” Bucky muttered, drawing his brows together and letting out a short sigh. He seemed to ponder it for a moment, skin flushing again as his gaze moved anywhere other than Steve’s eyes. “If this is about me being shy on you, I—,”

“It's hardly about that,” Steve interjected, unable to help himself. He cradled Bucky's cheeks, goading him into meeting his eyes again.  “I wouldn't care if you just didn't want to have sex, I care because—you're shutting down! It's like you aren't my Bucky when it happens, and it scares me.”

Bucky broke their gaze, staring blankly at Steve’s chest in silence for a few seconds. Steve noted his breathing, watching for the tensing of his muscles and other signs of an impending panic attack, but Bucky seemed stable, certainly scared and maybe even a bit ashamed, but stable.

He gulped, slowly shaking his head as he opened his mouth to speak again, as though he was still attempting to piece together his thoughts even as the words came out. “I'm sorry, Steve. Truth is…” he paused, a pained expression visible, jaw clenched, “I- I don't know. I don't understand it either.”

Steve would admit that he felt a bit of relief in knowing that, at the very least, Bucky hadn't been lying to him. And getting Bucky to actually emote about the circumstances was a major step in the right direction. Steve offered Bucky a sympathetic smile, running his fingertips down the soft line of his chin in hopes to calm him, show Bucky that he wasn’t upset in the least.

“Maybe we'll have a chat with Kathy. I'll tell her what I'm seeing and you can tell her how you feel.” Steve suggested, free hand rubbing along Bucky's squishy bicep. “I don’t exactly expect a miracle from her, but…she might be helpful in getting some answers, right?”

“Right.” Bucky echoed, considering Steve’s words for a minute or so before finally looking up again, expression nervous, but bright. “Okay. We can make the appointment tomorrow.” He clenched his jaw, turning to lay his head on Steve’s chest, eyes fluttering shut. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve smiled, feeling tension he had hardly recognized float out of his shoulders at Bucky’s agreement. He gave his boyfriend a light squeeze, head lolling back onto the pillows. “I just want you to be happy.”

***

After Bucky's appointment, Steve was rather eager for answers. He didn't pry too much, simply asked how it went and dropped it when Bucky responded with: “Good—constructive,” and informed Steve that he wanted to try and cook dinner for the both of them tonight.

“I'll tell you more if you promise to help me with the hard parts.” Bucky offered, smile somber with soft eyes as Steve started up the truck. Steve chuckled and nodded, knowing well enough that Bucky was probably looking for the right setting to have the talk. He clutched Bucky’s hand, turned on the radio and headed toward home.

Apparently, Bucky was in the mood for chili. He assigned Steve to the chopping of all vegetables and reading directions aloud while Bucky dumped the necessary ingredients into the pot.

*“Today was really tough.” Bucky burst out, a bit out of the blue as he sprinkled onions into the seeping pot, cooked beef already simmering. Steve simply gave a nod and placed a hand on his forearm, making his support as clear as he could. “I- there was a lot that I didn't remember. A lot I didn't—that I _don't_ want to remember. But Kathy says I need to cope with it. That- uh, _we_ need to cope with it.”

*Bucky met Steve's eyes for a split second before glancing at the cookbook. Steve read off the next direction and Bucky followed, mincing garlic with the press and stirring it into the dish. “HYDRA…they saw me as a tool, not just a weapon. They- the handlers, they used me for whatever they wanted.”

*Steve couldn't help the long sigh that left his chest, eyes welling up at what Bucky implied. He could hardly look at the man, too much pain lingering in the air for him to handle. “They took advantage of you?”

*Bucky only coughed, reaching toward the book before Steve read off the next instruction. Bucky mixed in some seasoning as the news settled, seeming to keep his cool with moving hands and deep breathing. “They did. Often. Allowed outsiders to—,” Bucky paused, focusing on stirring the chili for a few seconds. “The details don't matter. But, like everything else HYDRA did, this has effects that will stick with me for a long time, maybe forever, and we need to be aware of that.”

Bucky blinked, finally turning to Steve with bleary eyes and a wounded expression. Steve could feel his heart inflate with conviction for anyone that put his hands on Bucky without genuinely expressed want. His entire body went hot with frustration and anger and hatred, but he kept it at bay. Bucky didn't need Steve’s disdain, he needed Steve’s support.

“This is gonna be really hard.” Bucky explained, sliding the lid onto the pot to give Steve his full attention. “I don't know how long I'm gonna be like this and if, for even a second, you feel like you don't want to deal—,”

“No, no, Buck, you don't even entertain the idea.” Steve retorted, wrapping protective arms around Bucky's wide shoulders and cradling him close. “This is what I'm here for, to help you through times like this. No matter how long it takes. I love you, Bucky, sex or no sex. I love you, that's the bottom line.”

Steve could feel wetness dampening his shirt, prompting him to rub Bucky's back in loving circles and coo quietly as he sniffled. “I ask every day what grandiose thing I must have done to have you.” Bucky croaked, finally beginning to calm down again.

“I ask myself the same thing, funnily enough.” Steve eased himself back to cup Bucky’s cheek, a half smile on his mouth as he drank down Bucky’s beautiful features and soft expression. “We’re gonna take things real slow from now on, okay? Let me know if I’m too pushy or you wanna talk or anything, all right?”

“All right.” Bucky nodded, wriggling his way out of Steve’s arms. “But, Stevie, I don't think the chili’s gonna taste too great if we keep letting it sit…”

“Right!” Steve chuckled, reading off the next instruction with a bright smile. Once the contents were all stirred in, save the corn that would be added in the last ten minutes, Steve and Bucky moved to set the table and wash dishes while discussing potential triggers and hard no’s for the both of them.

Steve discovered they both had some apprehension toward restraints, that Bucky had poor experiences with forced orgasms and lack of aftercare, a simple reminder for Steve to be especially attentive to Bucky and never push him farther than he’d want to go. Thankfully, Bucky expressed that nothing he and Steve had tried thus far damaged him.

“I’ll admit, I feel a little guilty that this didn’t come up earlier.” Steve mumbled, taking a seat next to Bucky at the counter and handing him a glass of milk. “I mean, I’m happy I never crossed lines, but…I should have known there were lines I shouldn’t’ve crossed, at least.”

“It’s a two-way street, Stevie.” Bucky shrugged, sipping down his milk and soothingly rubbing Steve’s thigh. “And, sure, there are a couple things that it’d probably be best to steer clear of, but…I’d try about anything with you.”

Steve leaned over to press a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, sighing out in satisfaction. He was about ready to switch gears, not wanting to overwhelm Bucky with such heavy discussion for too long, but Bucky apparently had a few more words on the matter.

“I tried something the day that—the day that my head got all weird. And I think it’s why my head got all weird.” He explained, cheeks burning red as he squirmed in place. Steve stared at him in anticipation, noting the way Bucky’s grip on his thigh tightened a little, the way he paused to down about half of his milk in a couple of big gulps. “It scared me, doing it by myself, but I know it’s something that I like. And it’s something I want to try with you.”

Steve nodded, placing his hand over the one Bucky finally let rest on his leg. He reached over, gripping Bucky’s hip with his free hand and giving him a weak smile, trying to beat down his worry: he couldn’t imagine what Bucky was referring to. “I’m almost sure I’ll want anything you want, Buck, but I can’t say I’m comfortable agreeing ‘till I know what I’m getting into.”

Bucky gave Steve a faux sour expression and huffed out a laugh, though his skin continued to turn shade after shade darker. “Fair, that’s…fair. I—,” he paused again, swallowing hard. “I’m not even sure how to say it.” He tightened his jaw, gaze locked to the floor. “I like…fingering.”

Steve felt a slew of emotions: confusion, shock, wonder, and, beneath all of it, a notable amount of lust as the image of Bucky’s ass full of Steve began to construct vividly at the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t even realized his mouth fell open, that his pupils had blown wide as he stared Bucky down. Bucky appeared to be evaluating the reaction, gauging it to the best of his ability before Steve mustered up the strength to speak. “That's…great!”

Bucky cleared his throat, appearing steadily more embarrassed than he had before. He shook his head, combing fingers through his long hair and letting out a nervous laugh. “Just…forget I said anything, okay? It was—,”

“No, I will most certainly not forget, Buck.” The words came out more firmly than Steve intended and he quickly shook his head, clearing his throat with a cough. “I-I mean, I just… I wasn’t exactly expecting that. But I don’t think it’s bad, it’s… it’s far from bad, Bucky.”

“So…” Bucky started, vaguely gesturing his hands as his nerves appeared to calm, “that means you would be okay with trying that with me sometime?”

“More than okay.” Steve nodded, jerking his head a bit awkwardly in fumbling confirmation. He barely knew how to process the information, couldn’t help the warmth spreading all through his lower region just toying with the idea of exploring Bucky that way, especially at Bucky’s explicit and excited request. And, unsurprisingly, Bucky seemed to catch on to the fact that Steve’s sudden shutdown was not due to lack of wanting.

“Shoulda guessed you’d like that.” Bucky smiled ear to ear, leaning just slightly into Steve’s personal bubble and sending a tingle of want straight down his spine, knowing full well Bucky was teasing. “Seems a little flipped, though, right? Considering you’re kinda the punk.”

“Oh, shut up!” Steve retorted, feeling his cheeks flush and stomach flutter. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, even inching forward a little in defiance. “I say if you’re taking it, that makes you the punk.”

“Who says you’re never gonna take it, Stevie?” Bucky offered, suddenly pulling Steve’s chair forward and fitting his mouth against Steve’s neck, making his whole body go weak with helpless want. “I don’t remember you mentioning that on your no’s list…”

“I’m definitely not opposed to the idea.” Steve admitted, hands almost immediately resting on Bucky’s hugely prominent stomach, groping gently as Bucky licked and nipped at Steve’s skin. Apparently, Bucky liked the sound of that, considering the way he moaned against the muscles along Steve’s neck, lips moving with a bit more focus.

Bucky pulled back after only a few seconds, biting his lip and letting out a soft chuckle. “I’ve missed that.”

“Me too,” Steve laughed, fingers spreading and hands slowly crawling around to lock behind Bucky’s back, cradling the other man close. It took considerably more energy and strength than Steve showed to stop himself from pulling Bucky close again and lock their mouths together in a deep kiss. He knew better than to let either of their trivial emotions beat out reality and, as riled as he was, it certainly wasn't worth upsetting Bucky. “But we probably shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves just because we’re horny.”

Bucky grinned goofily, humming in agreement as he leaned his head onto Steve's shoulder. “I know you’re right, but I really am horny…”

“Well, we’ll see where we’re at after dinner, huh?” Steve offered, watching as Bucky’s face seemed to light up just at the words. Steve figured a big, warm meal would be a good enough subtitute for sex, at least in Bucky's case.

“Deal," Bucky said, proving Steve right with a nod, "I’m starved. Can we add the corn yet?”

Steve wriggled away from Bucky to check the clock and shuffled to the counter to pop open the can and dump the contents into the boiling pot. He sniffed at the concoction, feeling his own belly rumble in anticipation of an enticing meal. “I think we did a pretty nice job, Buck.”

“Can’t decide until we taste it.” Bucky replied, sipping down the remainder of his milk and slipping out of his seat to refill the glass. Steve took the time to drink down his body, noting the way his shirt was beginning to scrunch up in all the usual places: hips, belly, arm. Steve wondered if he’d ever start to plateau and part of him hoped he never would.

Twenty minutes later and Steve and Bucky were seated at the table with heaping bowls of chili in front of the both of them, topped with red onions, sour cream, and shredded cheddar. Steve helped himself to a hefty bite, a quiet moan slipping out in satisfaction. “The meat is a little overcooked, but the flavor is perfection!”

Bucky nodded, though he seemed characteristically unaware of the finer details and much more focused on consumption. He scooped up bite after bite, making a bit of a mess of his cheeks in all his haste. Steve just couldn't get enough of the sight: Bucky’s greed on full display, mouth stuffed and gut getting fuller.

“Do you even taste anything?” Steve asked, getting only flushed cheeks and a scowl in response. Bucky was clearly too interested in his chili to offer much more, already close to halfway done with the bowl. Steve gave him a firm pat, neglecting his meal for a few moments to watch Bucky enjoy his food, and goodness did his love for food seem to get stronger every day. He reveled in every bite, tiny confirmations of enjoyment showed in short moans, even his eyes fluttered shut every now and again.

Bucky finished the bowl in even less time than Steve anticipated, leaning back in his chair and resting a hand on his belly, seeming just as surprised as Steve at how quickly he wolfed it down. Steve refilled the bowl like a reflex, finally sitting back to work on his own food as he watched Bucky eat with keen eyes, loving the sight.

He slowed down a bit during his second bowl, finishing just a couple minutes before Steve and taking a short break. Steve got to his feet to get himself a refill, glancing to Bucky when he loudly cleared his throat. “Will you get me another bowl? My belly is a little…uh…” he gave the dome a firm pat, the tightness obvious.

"Admitting you're full and asking for more?" Steve chuckled, satisfied with his half full bowl and shifting to serve Bucky another heaping portion. "You're like a walking definition of greedy."

“Shut up. I just can’t sit up very well…” Bucky mumbled, squirming in place as he began scarfing down the chili, hastily at first, but he seemed to taper out a bit after the first few inhales. He hummed at the taste, one hand slipping beneath his shirt to cup his stomach, feel the tight heaviness of it. Steve could hardly help sneaking his hand in next to Bucky’s once he finished his own food, feeling the product of all Bucky’s hard work so big and impossible to ignore.

Steve moved to serve Bucky his next bowl the second he slurped down the dredges of his third, hands moving straight back to their place on Bucky’s stomach one he had the full bowl. “Think you can finish four?”

Bucky hummed, making a pleased noise and pondering, though he seemed plenty confident. “Bet I can, if you help me.”

“I’ll give you all the tummy rubs you need.” Steve offered, fingers dancing along the massive bulge of his stomach, making soothing patterns along his skin. Bucky let his head loll back, resting the bowl on his chest and scooping bites straight past his lips.

The both of them worked hard to get exactly four and a half bowls of chili stuffed in Bucky’s belly. He was heaving and exhausted by the end of it; Steve had to shovel the last few bites in. He reveled in Bucky’s pained moans and burps with every bite, slipping a hand delicately up Bucky’s thigh when he shifted his hips up in an easy rhythm. “This okay?” Steve asked, before pressing his palm against Bucky’s cock when he nodded, frantically. Bucky seemed to love every second of it, but Steve kept his hand still, decided not to roam too much. They needed to pace themselves.

The moment Bucky had swallowed the last bite, Steve sank down to pepper pecks along the taut skin before finally coming up for a much-needed kiss. Steve pulled back, eyes dazed as he added just a hint of pressure to Bucky’s groin. “Can you come for me, Buck?”

Bucky hardly gave a verbal response, only a moan and a stiff curl of his hips. Steve felt warmth spread across his palm soon after, watching Bucky with lidded eyes as he climaxed. Steve hummed, kissing both of Bucky’s messy cheeks. “You are incredible, you know that? Can I help clean you up?”

“Please.” Bucky mumbled. Steve pulled away and grabbed a towel, wet it with warm water, and quickly jumped to his boyfriend’s aid. He got Bucky into bed with new pajamas and a couple of Twinkies for dessert in hardly any time at all.

“I’m glad we talked.” Bucky said, curled into Steve’s side as he flicked through channels. “You’re a really great boyfriend.”

Steve turned to him, stealing a short kiss. “You only deserve greatness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thx for reading!! i have everything planned out for the final chapters. there will be two more chapters and an epilogue! (:


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tony hosts a barbecue and introduces a new recruit.

For Bucky, the next two weeks were an odd combination of torturous care and reluctant rewards. 

All in all, he only froze on a total of three occasions: once while in solitude, and twice early on during the first week, when Bucky convinced Steve to push boundaries against the Captain’s very clear word. Thankfully, Steve grew a little backbone by the third time Bucky begged to try a little more and turned him down for sexual advances he thought would be too much. 

Still, every night left Bucky hornier than the last. He’d fallen into a routine of pushing himself to eat more than he had in the recent months, hoping that stuffing himself near a food coma three times a day would entice Steve beyond a hand-job and belly rubs before bedtime. 

Unfortunately for Bucky, it usually only led to Steve red faced, hard, and mouthing Bucky’s massively swollen belly during a hand job and, toward the end of week two, he finally evolved to sucking Bucky off and allowing him to return the favor. To say that Bucky was ecstatic to have finally reached the point they’d been at previous to his symptom upset would possibly be the understatement of the century. 

He'd been working tirelessly over the weekend to break Steve: eating at every chance he got, “accidentally” slipping into old t-shirts and taking them off halfway through a meal, even rubbed his belly down with lotion after his shower while Steve tried not to climax just watching him. 

“Gotta look out for stretchmarks, right?” Bucky asked, spreading himself out on the bed while Steve lingered in the corner, huffing out before he finally placed both hands on the bulge of Bucky’s stomach and helped him work in the cream, skin blotchy and expression eager. 

“Seems a little late for that…” the comment came out in a wanton sigh, Steve’s finger’s tracing the angry lines, the tickles causing Bucky to erupt in a quiet laughter. He made a soft, loving noise when Steve began to grope him, hands wandering along the flab at Bucky’s hips, his pooling thighs, and widening ass. 

Bucky had just begun to spread his legs when Steve pulled back, patting Bucky’s side before slipping off the bed. Bucky could see his arousal through his jeans, but he went to the dresser regardless, finding a nice button up and putting it on. “Can’t get too distracted, Buck, the barbeque starts at 4 and we’re providing the main course.” 

“It’s only 3, Stevie, I’m sure no one will notice if we’re a couple minutes late…” Bucky hummed, struggling a bit to get off the mattress and wrap his arms around Steve’s midsection from behind, kissing along his neck. “Plus, I ate a really good lunch and I didn’t get much recognition for it.” 

Steve tripped up a bit with his buttons, chest heaving visibly as Bucky pressed his belly into his back, letting him feel the expanse of it. Steve hardly let it go on for ten seconds before wriggling away and heading toward the kitchen with a fleeting kiss. “I still have to pack up the ribs and  _you_ still need to pick your outfit, which we both know takes ages.” 

Steve was out of the sight before Bucky could protest, leaving him pouting and as sexually frustrated as ever. 

Admittedly, it took thirty minutes for Bucky to choose an outfit. He stopped asking Steve his opinion when he realized his boyfriend didn’t have the heart to tell him if something didn't flatter him. Plus, considering Steve’s fashion sense, he wasn’t sure his honesty would be too helpful, anyhow. 

Bucky went with a soft brown crew neck that matched nicely with Steve’s top, his best jeans, pulled his hair back into a bun, and even decided to clean up his beard. As usual, Steve looked him up and down with the brightest grin, showering him with compliments until the blush on Bucky’s cheeks felt permanent. 

They left the apartment with three containers of marinated ribs and big appetites. Tony and Steve planned the barbeque for two reasons: the team had been dying to try a few more of Steve’s specialty dishes and Tony apparently had a recruit he wanted to show off. 

They planned to meet at the tower, where Steve and Sam would work on a few sides (Sam promised to show Steve how to make sweet potatoes and  _good_  macaroni and cheese), while Natasha worked on cooking the meats. Bucky was frankly a little shocked Steve would trust her with his meticulously prepared pork, but Natasha had quite the talent for throwing down on a grill. 

Steve and Bucky arrived to find the usual members of the Avengers: Tony, Sam, Nat, Clint, Thor, Vision, and Wanda, along with a very small, very excited looking kid that was hanging off Tony until he realized that Captain America had entered the room. 

“Holy shit,” he squeaked, covering his mouth right after the word slipped out. “Jesus, I'm sorry, I just,” he paused, cautiously crossing the room with a curious, bright expression, “I never really thought I'd be meeting  _the_ Steve Rogers.” 

“The kid’s been fangirling all night.” Tony huffed, a hint of jealously visible in his expression. “I think you're the only person that impressed him more than I did.” 

“Excuse me, Tony,” Natasha prodded, shaking her head, “he was very impressed during my target practice.”  

“Mjolnir dazzled the boy as well!” Thor added. 

Sam lifted a finger. “And my wings def—,” 

“Okay,” Tony interjected loudly, rolling his eyes, “we get it, just—Captain, Bucky, this is—,” 

“Hold on.” Peter turned his attention to Bucky, his eyes almost immediately floating to his gut. “Bucky? As in Bucky Barnes? As in, like, the Winter Soldier?” 

“That's me.” Bucky shrugged, wanting to speak for himself before someone else on the team spoke for him. He gave the kid a pat on the shoulder and a friendly grin. “Most people don't recognize my face with the added hundred pounds.” 

The kid began to shake his head frantically back and forth, even as the room erupted in quiet laughter. “Not like that! Never like that, Mr. Barnes, I—,” 

“Not offended, Shrimp.” Bucky assured, nudging him playfully with his elbow. “I'm hefty and proud, nothing to be offended by.” 

He nodded, face still a little pink with embarrassment, but Bucky knew it'd fade. “I’m Peter, by the way. You may know me better by my, uh, vigilante name: Spider-Man!” 

“Oh, you're the little guy in spandex!” Steve grinned, pointing at him with a hand on his hip and nodding his head. “Yeah, you’ve got some skills, kid, the team’s been talking about you. Although, I thought we’d agreed that you seemed a little young to be fighting crime…” 

“If you’d gotten here on time you’d know that Peter, here, has been hired as an intern.” Tony explained, his pride practically pouring out of his smile. Even Bucky could tell he’d put a considerable amount of thought into the endeavor, anticipating heaps of praise from the whole team. “He’ll be at the tower the same days Cap is here.” 

“The same days the entire team is gone?” Steve questioned, brow lifted with a skeptical expression. 

Tony grinned even wider, his gaze suddenly fixed to Bucky. “Not the entire team.” 

Bucky couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out, head shaking back and forth as the facts set in. “You want me to babysit?” 

Tony spoke before Peter could accurately express the offense evident in his body language, placing hands on both Peter and Bucky. “No, no, think of it more like… a chaperone for an Avenger in training, huh? I figure I’ll slide the happy couple a few perks if Bucky facilitates a handful of hours a day for my prodigy to learn the trade.” 

“Sure.” Bucky shrugged, figuring he’d had plenty of experience training soldiers for HYDRA. As long as Steve could help him adjust his curriculum to something a little less traumatizing, he was sure he could turn Spider-Man into a perfectly fit Avenger. 

“Wait, really?” Tony asked, clearly taken aback by the lack of resistance. He turned, attention landing on Steve. “Cap, you’re good with it?” 

“If Bucky’s good, I’m good.” Steve nodded, letting his arm slide across Bucky’s back and giving his bicep a firm squeeze. 

“Well, damn, if I’d known it’d be that easy I wouldn’t have put you on the spot in front of the whole team.” Tony winked, giggling playfully and ignoring Steve’s deadpanned expression. “Anyway, where are the ribs? I need to see if your cooking lives up to the hype.” 

“It does.” Natasha commented from across the room, swiftly getting to her feet and plucking the Tupperware full of marinated pork sitting on the table nearest to the door. “Come on, Clint, I’ll need an assistant on the grill.” 

“Right behind you.” Clint replied, standing and striding alongside Nat as she headed toward the patio, where Bucky assumed the grill was already set up. Sam stood as well, slipping into the kitchen and waving for Steve to come along with him. 

“Now, the noodles are already cooked. We just need to layer up and pop it in the oven.” Sam started as Steve jogged excitedly behind him, washing his hands as Sam began to delegate work. 

Bucky went straight for the fridge, grabbing a couple of beers and a bowl of queso dip. He popped the bowl in the microwave and handed one bottle off to Peter, shaking it when he failed to receive. “You don’t drink?” 

“I’m nineteen.” Peter muttered, scratching the back of his neck 

“If you’re old enough to fight HYDRA, you’re damn well old enough to have a beer, Kid.” Bucky assured, smiling hugely when he finally took the bottle. He grabbed a bottle opener, popping off the tops for the both of them and taking a deep swig. He rummaged in the cupboard for chips, procuring a massive bag and setting it out on the table. The queso finished just as Bucky set down the chips; he lifted it out with his metal hand and got comfortable in a seat at the island as it cooled. 

Wanda and Thor appeared a moment later, pulling up chairs and chatting idly about various topics, many of which Bucky was finally beginning to understand enough to participate in. 

“I don’t believe we’ve discussed the newest wizarding film, the, uh, Fantastic Beasts!” Thor bellowed through a mouthful of chips, shaking his head. “I was deeply disappointed with the characters, very _vanilla,_ as Wanda predicted.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes, a chip floating into the dip and straight to her mouth as she nodded in agreement. “I knew it’d be bad, but,” another chip came toward her, “I just can’t believe two out of four mentioned female characters were love interests and one of them was only shown in pictures.” 

Bucky shrugged, a few crumbs falling from his lips through stuffed cheeks. “I couldn't believe the creatures. I swear, they use real magic to make movies these days, looks damn near real.” 

“Agreed!” Steve chimed from the kitchen, not even bothering to turn around. 

Tony waltz over with a glass of champagne in hand, rolling his eyes as he leaned against the counter. “Just you wait until the good Lord gives me the time to work in films, the shit you see on the big screen now will look like a five-year old’s scribbles on parchment.” 

“Considering evil never sleeps, I doubt you’ll get the opportunity.” Wanda chuckled, another chip flowing to her lips. 

They chatted for almost an hour. Thanks to mostly Bucky, they refilled the snack bowl two times before Sam and Natasha announced that the main courses were finally ready. Natasha poked Bucky in the belly as she passed with fragrant meats, smile wide. “I expect you to impress me, Soldier. I know it’s tasty.” 

Bucky felt heat rise right to his cheeks and went even hotter when he glanced across the room to find Steve watching him with hungry eyes as he piled his plate high with about half of the spread. He brought the heaping porcelain over, unashamed even as each of their comrades gave the servings a second glance—Peter actually gaped. Steve started with a big helping of the fattiest ribs (just how Bucky liked), all drizzled with barbeque sauce, loaded mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, coleslaw, and watermelon. 

Bucky could already feel his mouth watering. He gobbled down the last few chips in the bowl—a bit of a habit because Steve always made him finish every last bite before he got a second serving—and sat up a bit in his spot, spreading his thighs already in anticipation for the oncoming aching fullness he knew he’d have. Steve appeared behind Bucky and set down his plate, sweetly tucking a napkin into the front of his shirt as he whispered “eat up” right into Bucky’s ear. 

A chill ran down his spine as Steve slipped away and Bucky reached forward for his first taste of Steve’s famous ribs in decades. He took a bite, closing his eyes dreamy pleasure as he carefully chewed and swallowed, enjoying the flavors before sampling everything else in front of him. Steve popped up again after a couple minutes with the rest of the available foods: two thick slabs of cornbread, greens with extra salt pork, sweet potatoes, and two brats. 

Bucky gaped for a moment, questioning his abilities for a few seconds before Steve gave him an encouraging back rub and lustful eyes that promised his efforts would surely be worth the expense as soon as they got back to their apartment. He picked up his fork, determined to plow through the meal no matter what it took. 

Frankly, it was easier than Bucky anticipated. He managed to not get distracted, with most everyone focused intensely on the meal, it was easy to fall straight into the zone of consumption without much remorse. He managed to keep his messiness to a minimum, thankful for the napkin Steve conveniently provided, though he licked his chubby fingers clean of sauce and grease every few bites.  

He really enjoyed it, too, testing different combinations of flavors and dishes, noticing signature flavors from his boyfriend and the new, exciting methods of Sam’s cooking, each bite a new and incredibly satisfying explosion on his tongue. 

But by the time Bucky finally set down his fork, he genuinely felt subject to bursting. 

Steve was quick to lead him to the couch with a glass of water, easing him onto his back after a few sips. Steve whispered small encouragements and offered generous tummy rubs, sending Bucky to sleep after about two minutes. 

He woke up an hour later with loud bursts of laughter, claps, and ah’s coming from all around the room. 

“Seriously, you can't expect us to believe that  _Captain America_  smoked weed back in the day.” Tony practically yelled, moving his arms for emphasis on a few choice words. 

Steve's face was a little flushed as he shrugged, eyes trained to Clint’s diligently moving fingers rolling up reefer and capturing Bucky’s attention. “Ma started to get pretty holistic around the time I turned 15 and tea did the trick like nothin’ else: helped me eat and didn't make me sick.” 

“Yep,” Bucky concurred, struggling a little to finally sit up at his place on the couch. “First time I puffed was with Stevie when we were 18 and his mom quit buying it for him.” The earned a generous chuckle from the whole room and a soft shove from Steve. 

“That mean you're in, too?” Clint asked, finishing up the first joint and beginning to roll another. 

“You know it.” Bucky muttered, giving his belly a firm pat. Bucky hadn’t smoked in decades, but he certainly remembered muggle making his appetite more intense than ever and frankly, his only current desire was making enough room in his crammed belly to have a thick slice of Wanda’s peach cobbler. 

Everyone took at least one puff: Bruce quit after his first and Natasha stopped a couple of rounds later. Only Steve, Bucky, and Thor made it through all two joints, certainly baked, but about the same level as the rest of the group considering the soldier serum and, of course, Godly immunities. 

Thankfully for Bucky, the herb affected him much like it used to and not five minutes after his last huff, he was suggesting they all dig into the cobbler and everyone happily agreed. 

“Munchies?” Steve asked once they'd sat down, playful ring to his tone. Wanda set the dish on the table and began slicing it into pieces--Bucky’s mouth watered just watching. “You must still be stuffed, Buck.” 

“Yeah, but I'm also hungry.” Bucky mumbled, giving Wanda a wide smile as she served him a plate with two delectable slices. 

“I thought you'd appreciate extra.” She winked, making Bucky flush happily as Steve handed him a fork from the holders and intently watched him dig in. 

For once, Bucky didn't finish before everyone else did. About half the party migrated back into the living room just as Bucky stuffed the last couple of bites on his plate into his cheeks. 

Steve got to his feet, smiling wide as he watched Bucky's belly and placed his hands go gingerly on sensitive mound. “God, Bucky, you must be aching.” 

“Uh, huh,” he nodded, slowly stroking his stomach underneath his sweater. “Could- could you get me another piece, though?” 

Steve blinked, looking genuinely shocked at the request but Bucky couldn't miss how wide his pupils went or the rising tent in his jeans. “Are you sure, Buck? I mean, you ate a lot…” 

“I'm sure! I want it, come on.” Bucky prodded, sitting up with determination. When he looked up, he noticed Clint convincing Natasha to “give the boys some space” and the two of them joining everyone else in the living room. Meanwhile, Steve was serving up the biggest remaining piece of cobbler and setting it in front of Bucky’s big, round gut. 

“We should do this more often.” Steve chuckled, both hands moving in stiff circles over Bucky’s tight skin, easing the ache and convincing him to eat further. “Reminds me of before the war, when we used to smoke and eat all the snacks we could find and I'd curl up nice and tight next to you.” 

“Uh, huh,” Bucky hummed, taking a large bite and chewing it slowly, loving the gooey sweetness. “I forgot I could get this hungry, Stevie. God, this is delicious! Dunno if I can stop.” 

He took another bite despite his aching, the flavors and fullness enough to egg him on. Steve gave him a few firm rubs, the silent encouragement coaxing him on. “Then don't, Buck. Keep eating. Keep getting bigger.” 

Bucky moaned, setting the plate on the apex of his stuff stomach, crumbs dropping all over his torso as he began to shovel the pastry messily into his cheeks, desperate to never stop. He kept on, taking frequent breaks, but never stopping for more than a minute. Steve certainly didn't make it easy to, telling Bucky to keep on every time he set his fork down for a little too long. Finally, after Steve helped him pile what remained on the plate onto his fork, he stuffed the last, staggering bite into his sticky mouth. 

He spread his legs, hearing the chair creak beneath his weight. He took in a deep breath, picked up the tall glass of milk Steve served him and suckled it down, steady and quick, allowing him to finish just as the foundation of the chair buckled and Bucky was sent flat onto his flabby ass. 

Everyone in the vicinity turned to look, finding Bucky with his sweater slightly exposing his fat stomach, face smeared with a thin layer of peach cobbler remnants, and an empty cup in hand. “Holy shit…” 

“Are you okay?” Steve got to his hands and knees, touching Bucky softly everywhere, assessing damage with a keen eye, but Bucky could practically feel the heat brewing beneath the surface, his own arousal painfully prominent. 

“I'm fine, Steve, don't forget I'm a super soldier.” Bucky laughed, though he let Steve help him to his feet, noticing immediately that Steve didn’t take his hands off Bucky’s thick waist. Everyone else had made their way into the kitchen, looking worrisome and ready to assist Steve in any way they could. 

However, attention was the last thing Steve wanted. “I think I’m gonna get Bucky home and—yeah.” Steve muttered, shuffling Bucky toward the exit even as he spoke. He hastily waved his arms, double checked both his own and Bucky’s pockets for wallets and phones, and had Bucky pushed against the nearest wall in a steamy kiss not two seconds later. 

“I can't believe how much you ate.” Steve hummed as he pulled back, both hands settled on the dome of Bucky’s stomach, the pain of fullness slowly dissipating as he rubbed with those knowing fingers. He moved his hips forward until they were flush against Bucky’s, rocking in tiny titillations that made Bucky’s cock ache more than his stomach did. 

“I can’t believe you haven’t tried to get us home, yet.” Bucky laughed, catching Steve’s hip with his hand. “Seriously, I don’t wanna hear it from Tony for the next week if someone catches us.” 

“Fine,” Steve plucked out his phone, tapping away and slipping it back into his pocket a few moments later. “A ride should be here by the time we get downstairs.” 

Steve quickly led Bucky to the elevator and crowded him into the corner, his flat tummy curving around Bucky’s undeniably present one. The feeling was maddeningly hot, all of Bucky’s work and growth exemplified through defying the strength of a  _chair_  and Steve close to coming just seeing it happen. The thoughts had Bucky’s head spinning with arousal and want, the pressure of Steve’s groin against his own dragging a deep moan out of his throat. 

The elevator dinged far too soon, but it sated Bucky to know that they were just minutes away from their big, comfy bed and all the privacy they could hope for. Though, the cab ride felt longer than usual—Bucky’s only solace was Steve’s persistent hands on his stomach. 

Steve had Bucky in their bedroom in a flurry, dark eyes trained to Bucky’s red, stretch-marked midsection. Bucky himself could swear that it looked almost twice the size it usually would, bulbous and hot to the touch. “I think you deserve a big reward for this one, Buck.” 

Bucky nodded, eyes slipping shut in preparation for Steve’s warm, wet mouth, but instead Steve climbed over him, digging through the drawer of the bedside table. Bucky turned his head to look as Steve produced a bottle of lubricant the soldier had failed to notice. He practically shuddered with desire, knees inching up as his eagerness to display his hole grew more and more pressing. 

To Bucky’s dismay, Steve set the bottle on the mattress without so much as opening it, but before he could protest, Steve gripped the back of his knees and bent forward, peppering kisses along his chunky, dusted thighs. “I wanna taste you, Buck. Can you guess where?” 

Again, Bucky nodded with abandon, sucking in a breath and holding it there when Steve let one hand drift down his leg and croaked when he felt Steve’s thumb press softly to his opening. “Right here. Can I, Bucky? Can I taste you?” 

“Yes, yes!” Bucky shouted and, without a second more of hesitation, Steve disappeared from Bucky’s line of view, beneath the convexity of his belly where his tongue went straight to work. He licked slowly around the rim, teasing until Bucky’s hips began to rock against the sensation and finally pressed his tongue through the opening when a plea slipped out of Bucky’s mouth. 

It felt  _incredible,_  Steve’s knowing tongue messily exploring his walls, twisting and plunging as deep as he could manage. He pulled away with a hard suck to Bucky’s hole, humming gently as his hand rubbed along his stretch marks. 

Steve's face was bright pink, lips wet and already a bit swollen, his sex drunk expression enough to distract Bucky from the click of an opening lube bottle, but he groaned when he felt the cool substance coating his opening. 

“How'd you like that?” Steve asked, running teasing circles around the rim with his thumb. Bucky could hardly process the question with the barely there sensation of pleasure Steve effortlessly applied. All he could think of was how much  _more_ he craved. 

Apparently, Bucky's needy babbling translated to just that because Steve's digit was sinking carefully inside, enticing a squeak when the finger was comfortably settled. “Feel good?” 

“So good,” Bucky murmured, rocking his hips down onto the appendage, fucking himself at a needy pace, so swallowed up in the pleasure that hardly noticed Steve's moans or consistent fondling of his stomach and wide chest. 

Bucky barely refrained from calling out a “no” when Steve pulled his thumb free, wriggling and only sated when Steve replaced his thumb with two fingers, scissoring and spreading and  _fucking_ with a melodic pace that brought Bucky right to the edge in no time. He'd been fucked plenty of times, more intensely, with a bigger stretch, but not with the sort of care and loving nature that Steve harbored—Bucky wasn't sure he could get it any place else. 

Steve finally let his hand drift from roaming Bucky's delectable chub to wrapping firmly around his hard-on, aiming his cock delicately toward full lips and licking it from base to tip. “Come whenever you'd like, Buck.” 

Once Steve took him down, buried his throbbing dick in that warm mouth and  _moved,_ Bucky was spilling and rocking his hips like a pathetic teenager again. 

“Fuck…” Bucky breathed, once his brain calmed down enough for him to coherently speak. Steve's head was resting on his thick thigh, peppering kisses along the crevice. “Come ‘ere, let me get you off…” 

Steve flushed, giving a small shrug of his shoulders and shaking his head. “Already did. I guess watching you and humping the sheets was enough to get me there.” 

“Jesus, Steve, you're gonna get me stiff again…”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky prepares to train Peter and Steve's never been so proud.

Just forty-five minutes in Tony’s gym with Steve had Bucky sweating bullets.

Thank God the two of them thought to start hitting the gym regularly for a couple of weeks before beginning to train Peter—Bucky couldn’t imagine the embarrassment if he’d  went into it without any preparation, even doubted Tony would have let him keep the job.

Bucky's declined fitness came as a surprise, though it shouldn't have. Of course, Steve suggested Bucky weigh in before beginning his work out, looking all too eager to get their first confirmation of results in months.

He stepped up to the scale with Steve lingering close behind him, hands resting on Bucky's wide hips as he waited for a few moments in excited anticipation. Bucky actually sputtered a little when the digits flashed on the screen, reading a solid 252.5 pounds. Steve squeezed the fat at his sides, jiggling it gently and peppering soft kisses up the line of his neck. “You’re officially a fatass, you know that?”

A jolt ran straight down Bucky’s spine, exciting his groin enough that he was tempted to shove Steve into the shower right then and there and get messy, but he knew very well they had serious business ahead—Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd stepped foot in a gym.

When they finally got to the floor, Steve managed to keep his teasing to a minimum, he didn't even break a smile when Bucky started to get a little winded after just 3 minutes of high intensity running on the treadmill, something he'd have been able to do for at least twenty just a year ago. He simply encouraged and praised, pushing Bucky right to the edge—and it felt pretty good.

Really, Steve only broke out in a fit of giggles when Bucky made his first attempt at sit ups. He huffed out, flexing all those muscles that had swiftly melted into bubbling fat and finding they lacked the same results. He grunted, shifting his body, red-faced when he finally managed to pull his back off the ground. He huffed out, flopping back onto the mat with both hands covering his round belly, staring at the ceiling in grave defeat.

Bucky couldn’t ignore that smirk on Steve’s mouth when he turned to look at him, brows raised as he sank a finger into the dough that had become of Bucky’s belly. He chuckled, shaking the surface a little with an open palm. “You're really out of shape.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Tell me something I don't know.”

“You'll be back at it in no time.” Steve smiled ear to ear, giving Bucky a swift kiss on the nose. “Come on, another one. You wanna earn that nice big meal at the end of the work out, don't you?”

Bucky squirmed into position, taking in a big breath before struggling his way through a second sit-up, then a third. “Isn't the whole point to lose weight?”

“No, the point is to get in shape.” Steve replied, granting Bucky with a kiss when he completed another rep. “You can still be fat and kick ass—remember Coach Williams?”

Bucky huffed out a hearty laugh. “Shit—yeah, I do, and now I get why you had such a weird crush on her.”

Steve flushed, narrowing his eyes. “Just for that, you're doing burpies.”

***

Steve was right about one thing: Bucky bounced back in almost no time at all. After just a couple of weeks, Bucky’s endurance, focus, and agility steeply improved—his current skill came nowhere near the Soldier’s dexterity, but certainly impressive enough to give Peter proper training.

He genuinely expected to see a drop in numbers at his three week weigh in, their final session before Bucky would start working with Peter. Bucky and Steve spent six days a week in the gym for a minimum of three hours. He did note, however, that his clothes did not feel any looser and his appetite was far from diminishing.

Steve mentioned that Bucky would need a lot more calories to maintain his weight and he wasn't kidding—it was cream and cheese laden pasta two times a week, fattening cheesecakes and grease covered bacon three times a week, and heaps of fast food after every single one of Bucky's 5 workout sessions a week, plus donuts after his morning workouts.

For the first time since Steve's arrival, Bucky actually wondered whether or not he could keep up with Steve's feeding. But he managed, and, despite consistent exercise, the numbers certainly reflected that.

“12 pounds?!” Bucky's jaw dropped, staring down at the number with wide eyes. He looked up to Steve, his belly welling with need as Steve's cheeks flushed. “Stevie, I—I _gained_ 12 pounds…”

Steve kissed Bucky, passionate and heavy, as though the scale had showed him the greatest news of his life. Frankly, Bucky couldn't help but be impressed with himself. For most people, a gain like that in just a couple of weeks would be a feat in itself, and something very worthy of praise on top of regular exercise. On the other hand, Bucky could hardly wrap his head around how rapidly he still managed to grow. Part of him considered that the added mass could have been due to muscle, even though his sensical half told him gaining twelve pounds of fat seemed more likely, especially considering his and Steve's habits.

But before Bucky got the chance let his spinning thoughts send him into a panic, Steve calmed his nerves with firm hands on his stomach, massaging the fat with caring fingers. “I almost wanna skip the work out and take it straight to the showers…”

“I like the way you think, Rogers.” Bucky smiled wide, letting his maladaptive thoughts float away to make room for that fluttering excitement that coursed through him every time Steve got bedroom eyes and flushed cheeks.

Bucky barely had to tug Steve in the right direction before he was rushing the both of them to the other side of the tiny locker room, articles of clothing flinging off as they made their way across the tile. Steve pushed back the curtain and shoved Bucky against the wall, earning a smirk and a little bit of struggle before Steve granted him a wet kiss and sank fingers into his malleable ass.

Steve let out a loud groan, prompting Bucky to let the water stream against them in hopes to drown out the noise. In hardly any time at all, Steve turned Bucky around, pinning his hands to the tile with his mouth right up against Bucky’s ear, stubble rubbing along his soft neck.

“When did you get this greedy?” He asked, hips pumping against Bucky in a desperate, needy rhythm, cock sliding effortlessly between Bucky’s cheeks. He whined, giving a shrug of his shoulders, too weak to even form words.

Steve dropped to his knees, taking a few moments to knead along Bucky’s hips and ass, peppering kisses over every patch of skin before sliding his face between Bucky’s massive cheeks and licking there, groaning and taking his time to massage the soft muscle until his tongue slipped through like it inched through butter.

“Fuck,” Bucky exclaimed, sinking his teeth into his forearm to keep from screaming when Steve's tongue began to rotate, messy and wet and _incredible_ , the pleasure amplified by the warmth of the shower and the idea of being caught by someone on the team.

Steve pulled back, prompting Bucky to look over his shoulder to find him with his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, mouth coated in spit. “Is it good?"

“Amazing, keep going!” Bucky yelled, going straight back to his position with his head against the wall when Steve's tongue penetrated him again, flicking and swirling and driving Bucky straight toward pleasure.

Finally, Steve granted him a finger—only one, more than likely cautious about lubrication washing away with the water. Usually Bucky would fuss, but Steve's tongue and the pulsating stimulation to his prostate was enough to make him scream.

Thankfully, the noise was muffled in his skin and he could feel Steve's moans vibrating through him in response, the tantalizing mixture of sensations sending him right over the edge.

He splattered, untouched, all over the tile, breathing hard and fast and uneven as Steve got to his feet and finished all over Bucky’s wide ass.

“God, that was good,” Steve breathed, kissing along Bucky’s neck and gently guiding him into the stream of water, washing his skin clean,“we should fuck in this shower more often.”

The two of them jumped when another very frustrated sounding voice added: “Please, don't.”

***

Bucky had to admit, training a nineteen-year-old in classical fighting technique with rigid discipline required significantly more patience that he’d anticipated.

Peter was a good kid, definitely had the drive and the will to be successful in just about anything thrown in front of him, but he reminded Bucky of a young Steve in a number of ways. Easily distracted, frustrated with failure, and an expectation of perfection with minimal effort. The kid had brains, strength, and creativity, but even so, results required long hours and tireless work, things even Bucky struggled with.

In hindsight, Bucky expected a little too much from the kid the first week. He realized when Peter huffed and puffed through his warm up, staring at Bucky like he’d just punched him in the face with his metal arm when the soldier asked if he was ready to start his actual training.

With Steve’s help, he reworked the regimen, including some beginner yoga techniques to help keep Peter level headed during moments of frustration following tougher sequences. Although Peter spent a full forty-five minutes face down, spread out across the gym mats after the five hour session, it was a major improvement from the crying the first days.

Bucky could tell the kid practiced between meetings, his skills steadfastly improving, sometimes faster than Bucky could adjust the regimen enough to challenge him. After two weeks, Peter and Bucky both left the gym pleasantly sore, but at the very least, proud of progress and able to walk.

And, as Tony and Bucky discussed, after four weeks they’d queue up the simulator to test for progress.

The machine was probably the most daunting thing Bucky had laid his eyes on in the 21st century. As mind-blowing as it seemed, it had the capability to create holographic monsters with the same weight, depth, and strength as actual criminals. With its size, keypads, do-dads, and sparking electronics, Bucky was almost convinced that it could really pop out a humanoid fighting machine without a demonstration—almost.

Frankly, Bucky hardly thought his imagination did the thing justice. Terrifying creatures effortlessly came to life before their eyes and Tony smirked the whole damn time, even when Peter got smacked around in a moment of overwhelmed shock.

“Watch your stance, Petey,” Bucky aided, earning a light shove from Tony.

“He won’t have you there telling him what to do during combat. Let him do his thing.”

Bucky sighed, but headed Tony’s word regardless, biting his tongue every time Peter neglected his foot work or got a little too cocky. Overall, he handled himself well, only forfeiting when the machine presented four bots twice Peter’s size that relentlessly slammed him into the mat.

“Not bad, Parker.” Tony chuckled, turning the machine off with a swift press of a button and patting the teen on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear. “Level 5—honestly, I didn’t think you’d make it past 2. I’m impressed.” He turned to Bucky, giving him a nod. “With both of you! Parker, you take a breather—Bucky and I need to discuss business.”

“Can do, Boss.” Peter huffed, limping a bit as he made his way to the locker room.

"Cap's a wreck without you on the field." Tony sighed, arms crossed and stance wide as he looked Bucky square in the eyes. "I mean, he still kicks ass, but his head isn't there. I thought maybe knowing you were occupied would snap him back, but no such luck."

"What exactly do you expect me to do about that?" Bucky asked, mirroring Tony like a reflex, though Bucky would like to think his expression came off as a bit less arrogant.

Tony huffed out a chuckle, finally uncrossing his arms to place a hand on Bucky's flesh arm. "I want you on the field, Soldier."

Bucky pondered, probably for significantly longer than Tony felt comfortable with—he wondered whether or not heeding to Tony’s obvious selfishness would be a burden worth fulfilling if it meant Steve could save the world again. And, buried even deeper than the immense guilt of holding Steve back from his dreams, was a fear of what sorts of horrors might come back to him in combat.

However, as much as Bucky adored the domesticated lifestyle, he barely felt half as happy without Steve around to relish with him. Spending every day with Peter elated Bucky more than he’d even anticipated and frankly, he dreaded returning to the lonely weekends.

By the time Tony began impatiently tapping his foot, the only conclusion Bucky had come to was that he needed Steve’s input. “I can let you know next week.”

Tony dramatically rolled his eyes and let his upper body sag with disappointment. “Let me guess, you have to confer with Cap because the two of you are more codependent than shampoo and conditioner?”

“Exactly.”

**

“I _knew_ Tony would pull this sort of shit.” Steve grunted as his onion chopping became increasingly angrier. “He’s constantly complaining about my ‘distractions’, as if he’s not more occupied with his image than actually helping people 99% of the time. And how dare he involve you— _use_ you just to improve my performance?”

“I think we can both agree that the intentions aren’t necessarily the best, but,” Bucky shrugged his shoulders, watching Steve drop the onions into the pot, “maybe it’s not the worst idea. I’m pretty bored here at the apartment all day and I’m sure Tony wants Peter out on the field, too. He passed that little assessment with flying colors! And don’t tell me you aren’t loving saving lives again.”

“I don’t want you worrying about that—I want you to worry about what’s gonna make you happiest.” Steve assured, adding chopped carrots to the dish. “And I’ll support whatever that may be.”

Bucky nodded his head, deciding figuring out his final answer could wait until after he wasn’t so distracted by the delicious aroma of wild rice soup he hoped would be finished soon. “Well, we got a week to think on it. In the meantime, I’m gonna need a snack to tide me over until this stops smelling so damn good.”

“Of course, you do.” Steve laughed, tending to his work at the stove while Bucky sliced up a few avocados and sprinkled them with salt and pepper, a lovely suggestion from Bruce he steadfastly grew a liking to.

By the time Steve finished up dinner, Bucky helped himself to three of the things plus a tall glass of coke to wash it all down.

“You’re gonna get sick of those if you keep inhaling them like oxygen.” Steve teased, setting a dangerously full bowl of soup in front of Bucky and passing him a spoon along with it.

“I spent half a century consuming only protein shakes—I think I can handle a little monotony from time to time.” Bucky chided, stirring the contents of the bowl in an attempt to cool it down a little faster. Despite his hefty snack, his eagerness to dig in practically overrode how badly it would hurt to start shoving the scalding soup into his mouth without hesitation.

But he waited, not so patiently, for the full two minutes that Steve suggested before finally shoveling a hefty bite into his mouth. It was warm, creamy, and rich, just the way Bucky loved. He hummed softly, giving his dome of a belly a firm pat as he scooped bite after bite into his mouth, the hot soup pooling in the pit of his tummy.

“I know I don’t say it enough,” Steve started suddenly, voice soft and just teetering on somber, “but I’m really proud of you, Bucky. When I first moved in I—I honestly wondered whether or not you’d ever be _you_ again. And I know that, for both of us, things will never be the way it was before the war…”

Steve looked up from his bowl of soup, meeting Bucky’s eyes and simpering. “But, as awful as what you went through was, you healed. You worked so hard and you do, every day and I know it wasn’t easy. It’s still not easy. And I am so proud of you, Bucky.”

The soldier coughed, hardly realizing tears streamed down his face until Steve softly dragged his fingers along his cheeks. He hardly had words, too overcome with emotion and gratitude to even process what he felt, so he settled for the simplest form of appreciation. “Thanks, Stevie.”

***

Bucky could tell there was something wonderfully special about that night from the very start. The way Steve stared at him, with undeniable admiration, hardly fretting even when Bucky tried to make him break with easy flirtations and messy eating, which would usually have Steve weak and peppering kisses all long his excess.

That night, Steve hardly seemed to care about how much Bucky consumed, too focused on rubbing his tummy and soothing the ache Bucky brought to himself, touching his skin, scratching along his stretch marks—the way he sometimes got for reasons Bucky could never quite pinpoint.

It felt amplified, though, the intensity in the room growing denser with each passing second, until Bucky finally placed his empty bowl aside and slumped his head back in defeat.

“All full?” Steve whispered, lifting Bucky’s belly just barely and allowing it to rest on his thighs again—when did his belly begin to rest on his thighs?

Bucky offered a gentle nod, moaning a little when Steve locked his arms firmly behind his back and beneath his thighs to lift him swiftly off the chair, bridal style. Bucky felt a little bubble of pride swell in the pit of his stomach when he noticed Steve struggling a bit when he finally deposited Bucky on the bed, taking just a few extra seconds to catch his breath.

“Even a super soldier has trouble lugging me around—kind of a feat, huh?” Bucky chuckled, though the sound sank when Steve began dragging his lips up and down the stubble along Bucky’s neck. He sighed softly, letting his hand float across Steve’s arm before the captain pinned his arms down and locked their lips together in a messy kiss.

Their tongues explored as Bucky squirmed a bit impatiently beneath Steve, but the blonde held his ground, refusing to give Bucky much more than the controlled curl of his hips. After what felt like centuries, Steve finally unlocked his hands from Bucky’s forearms and moved them both to squeeze roughly at his stomach, kissing down the dome and biting softly at his underbelly.

“Bucky,” Steve started, making only his eyes visible beneath the convexity of his stomach, “I really love you. An-and if you’re comfortable, I want to, I mean I really, _really_ would like it if—,”

“Rogers, I’ve waited over a hundred years to make love with you.” Bucky simpered, letting his fingers sink into those waves and tugging playfully at the roots. “And I swear, I’ll ice you if I have to wait even another second.”

Things became blurrier in the next few minutes, with Steve shuffling to procure the lube and drizzling a hefty amount between Bucky’s thick cheeks, using his thumb to tease at the opening before hastily allowing the digit to sink inside.

Bucky croaked, dipping his hips down and babbling out verbal encouragements that only seemed to make Steve’s teasing worse. He worked his thumb delicately in and out, stealing the breath right from Bucky’s chest with every push. Steve wrapped long fingers firmly around Bucky’s cock, every pull sending Bucky the barest bit closer to the edge, but it still felt so far.

Bucky actually got a reaction when he finally reduced to pleading, noting a sly smile when Steve sat up for a few seconds, sliding his thumb free and replacing it with two fingers, easing them deep into Bucky and curling them relentlessly against his prostate.

A weak noise left Bucky’s throat as Steve worked and titillated, making Bucky see stars when he slipped his tongue in along with his fingers, opening him the barest bit more. Steve swirled the muscle, pulling in and out, getting Bucky wet enough to allow a third digit to sneak its way into Bucky’s entrance. “Fuck, Stevie, please!”

“Just a little more, Buck, I don’t want to hurt you.” Steve breathed and as true as Bucky knew that was, he wondered how much of it was an excuse to see him red-faced, on edge, and heaving for even the tiniest bit more. Steve took his time, scissoring, licking, soothing, waiting until Bucky was soft and slick before sitting up and slathering his cock with lube.

“You’re sure, Buck?” Steve asked again, the ghost of a smirk on his lips and Bucky knew exactly why—how could he resist when the head of Steve’s cock was dragging painstakingly slowly over his gaping hole?

“Yes, Stevie, I sw—oh!” The euphoric rush of Steve finally slipping inside, slow and steady, snatched the words straight from Bucky’s mouth. He croaked, taking in a heavy breath as Steve bent forward, soft groans filtering out of his mouth as his hips rocked, pulling in and out of Bucky in steady motion.

“God, Bucky, you feel so _incredible._ ” Steve hummed, voice soft and strained, though Bucky could hardly focus on anything but the consistent rhythm, the incomparable fullness, the way Steve cradled him close.

“Fuck, fuck, St-stevie, please, touch—,” Steve began hastily stroking before Bucky could even finish the word, the firm, quick pull an amazingly pleasant compliment to Steve’s delicate thrusts.

Steve moaned, his other hand roaming around Bucky’s soft body, praising each inch and making Bucky’s muscles tremble in delight. Steve bent forward, words slipping out as though he could hardly control them coming. “So tight, Buck, God, you’re perfect.”

Bucky only managed a heavy groan, belly beginning to tighten in anticipation, feeling the sweet rush of climax climbing up his spine.

“So close, Stevie, I—,”

“Yeah,” Steve grunted, hips pumping just the barest bit faster, “yeah, Bucky come for me.”

Bucky seemed to spill at the command, hips rolling through the orgasm as he spurted onto his belly. He trembled, eyes fluttering open to find Steve staring down at him with an expression of pure ecstasy. He sighed out, thrusting softly into him, “God…”

Bucky’s breath hitched and Steve was quick to attempt to retreat, but the soldier caught him before he could. “No, no… I want you to come inside, Stevie, please…”

Steve bit his lip, determined and red faced as he began to hump again, eyes wandering all of Bucky’s bumps and curves and valleys, like just seeing his boyfriend vulnerable and satisfied was enough to bring him to the cusp.

Perhaps that was true, because Steve began to toss his head back, moans falling from his lips in quick succession, pumps getting faster and harder, enough stimulation to make Bucky whine out along with him. Before long, Steve was jackrabbiting, stiff and needy, leading up to a strong curl of his hips. He froze there, jaw dropped and face pink as he climaxed, hips jumping just a few more times before he caught his breath and gathered up tissues from the nightstand.

“I never think about the clean up.” He chuckled, carefully pulling out and pressing the tissue to Bucky’s opening, hoping to catch and mess before it could ruin the sheets.

Steve slipped into the bathroom, returning with warm, damp face towels and a beaming grin. “How’d you like it?”

Bucky’s brows shot to his hairline. “Did you see my face?”

“Did you see mine?” Steve retorted as he handed Bucky his water bottle from the nightstand and began to carefully clean him up.

Both men were too bested to even entertain the idea of dessert, silently deciding that snuggling, sleep, and one another were the only desires they yearned for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this is the final chapter of the story (save the epilogue). i hope you all enjoyed reading this!!! i appreciate all the awesome feedback throughout and ill get started on my next fic soon


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

“All right, all right, calm down,” Tony yelled over the hum of applause and cheer emanating from the rest of the team, “the fight isn’t over yet, so don’t celebrate too hard.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, shoving past Tony and bee-lining to the liquor cabinet before anyone could object. “Come on, Tony, let the kid have his moment, it’s his first mission!”

“And a successful one!” Peter grinned, earning a squeeze from Steve and high fives all around, even Tony offered a hand when he seemed to realize he was the only stick in the mud. Peter beamed bright, cheeks pink with pride. “We were awesome out there, guys! Did you see how fast they ran when Bucky showed up?”

“Yeah, I’d run too if I saw a three-hundred-pound super soldier with a metal arm charging at me.” Sam jeered, jabbing Bucky in the gut with his elbow, the gesture retorted with a light shove. “What, man, take it as a compliment!”

“Okay, enough about me, we should be celebrating Spidey, here. First day on the job and you kicked ass like a pro.” Bucky clapped his hands together, waving a hand toward Natasha. “Get Shorty a shot of whiskey.”

Tony sputtered, shaking his head. “Hey, okay, hold on!”

Steve placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder before he could intervene, small smile on his lips as he met Tony’s eyes. “This is a big deal, for both of them.” He squeezed the flesh beneath his palm a bit absently, feeling pride swell in the pit of his belly. “They deserve it—we all do.”

Steve watched as Peter choked down the alcohol, encouraged by the chanting and raving from the rest of the team to have another the second he finished the first. Bucky took a rather excessive pull, himself, passing the bottle along for each Avenger to take a swig before grabbing beers and making themselves comfortable around the living room.

Everyone fired compliments, paying special attention to Bucky and Peter alike and while Peter seemed to soak up every positive notion like a sponge, Bucky shrugged them off, focusing more on his drink than much else.

Steve approached him once most of their teammates had dispersed from the kitchen, leaning an elbow on the counter Bucky had his back pressed against. “You really did a great job out there, probably cut our mission time in half.”

“Yeah,” Bucky huffed, half smile on his mouth when his eyes locked to Steve’s, “I guess everybody forgot the whole ‘greatest assassin alive’ status once I went soft. That was nothin’ Stevie, really—what I’m more impressed with is the fact that I held it together.”

“Hey,” Steve inched a bit closer, a hand lingering on Bucky’s forearm, “me too. I didn’t worry too much because I knew you could do it, but… that was really amazing, is all. And I hope you feel like you made the right choice, joining the team again.”

Bucky paused, seeming to actually consider the question for a few moments before responding. He took in a sharp breath, small smile on his lip. “It’s gonna be a scary road, with ups and downs, and maybe there will be a time or two when I don’t do so hot out on streets, but dammit—if I’m with you, it’s always the right choice.”

Steve grinned ear to ear, pulling Bucky close until their noses pressed together. “You’re such a punk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all folks (:

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading, ps i really love to talk to people about this so PLEASE come chat with me on my [blog](http://scottmcchubs.tumblr.com) anytime <3y


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